


The Immune Response

by Derin



Series: Parting the Clouds [9]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 04:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 29,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3434216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Derin/pseuds/Derin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The yeerks are after andalites, and they decide to hit them at home - the forest. Through a logging company, they intend to flush out the 'andalite bandits' at any cost. Since stopping the logging company is the goal anyway, nobody's too bothered that Cassie seems more focused on saving the local wildlife than on saving the human race... except Cassie, because the difference in what she professes to believe and what the war forces her to do is getting harder and harder to ignore. How can she keep fighting if she's not even sure who the good guys are any more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to JustAnotherGhostwriter, who has generously loaned her awesome betaing skills and general support to this project from start to finish and without whom this would almost certainly not exist (and would certainly be much worse), and Pawnofanellimist, as well as my innumerable temporary beta readers. Also thanks to Featherquillpen, who came up with the series title.

My name is Cassie.

I have problems, like any kid. Well, not exactly like any kid. Some people have different problems than me. My parents are both alive and still together, for instance. I don't get bullied as much as you'd expect of a black female biology nerd, probably because my best friend is an insanely pretty and fashionable blonde gymnast. My parents own our house and, while we're not exactly rich, we don't live on the poverty line or anything.

I am a lot more busy than most kids my age, what with helping my dad run the Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre. And what with being part of a small, untrained, overworked resistance force against alien invaders, which is a full-time job in itself. I can't get any leniency in school or the Rehabilitation Centre due to that, though, because I can't let my parents or teachers know. There's always the possibility that my parents are the unwilling slaves of mind-controlling, hostile alien parasites, and I know for a fact that some of my teachers are.

It was a combination of these factors that led to me suffering from a very serious, very much dreaded, but rather more common problem than most that I suffer from.

“You're getting a D in biology?” Rachel frowned. “You?”

“Yes,” I said, somewhat more tersely than I'd intended, as we snuck into the biology lab at 5pm. I was trying to be quiet; I was pretty sure that there was still an entrance to the yeerk pool somewhere in the school, but I had no idea how often it was used. I didn't want to accidentally witness anything suspicious, or we'd be captured and infested to maintain yeerk secrecy. “And since I told my parents that our little group is a study group, suddenly dropping to a D right after starting it is probably going to be a problem. I mean, best-case scenario, they'll want me to leave the group; worst-case, it could be outright suspicious.”

“But... you're our biology expert!”

“There's surprisingly little overlap between the sort of information we need for morphing, and the sort of information on biology tests. Besides, I've been really behind in my homework. This extra credit assignment is my last chance to pull the grade up to a C.” I pulled a sheet off a box on one bench, revealing a small maze, and ladled some fruit and nuts into a little basket at the end point. Then I reached into a cage and pulled out a small white rat. “This is Courtney. She's meant to smell the food and find her way through the maze.” I placed Courtney at the start position. She moved over to a corner and just sat there, little nose twitching. “But she won't solve the maze, and I don't know why.”

“Maybe you just have a stupid rat?” Rachel suggested.

“A stupid rat would just be bad at solving the maze,” I pointed out, ignoring her sarcasm. “Courtney won't even try.”

“Okay,” Rachel said, “so what do you want me to do about it?”

“Keep watch.” I reached down into the maze once more and rested my fingertips on Courtney's back. Then I closed my eyes, and focused.

_Rat_.

Courtney calmed down a moment as I acquired her form. Then, I began to shrink.

Very quickly, I shrank out of my outer clothes. My leotard, which I'd taken to wearing as often as possible, melted into my skin. The fine hairs on my arms and legs thickened into a silky white coat. Ears stretched out. A tail shot out from the end of my spine. I braced myself for the rat's mind.

It was about what I expected. Very cautious, very alert. It liked the cover provided by the pile of my clothes. It liked the low light level, where it could see well but hide in shadows. Rats have pretty decent vision, for mammals. But it was my sense of smell that really told me about the world. I could smell the chemicals in the cabinets. I could smell the traces left by students trooping in and out of the classroom all day. I could smell some kind of big animal, a mammal all around me; one that had been there very, very recently. But that didn't bother me. The sounds of a big animal definitely still present outside my shelter were a little more worrying.

I made myself scamper out of the pile of clothes. Rachel's feet were huge; her legs were pillars stretching into an unknowable sky. I fought down panic as her fingers closed around me, and she lifted me to eye level.

“Well,” Rachel said. “That was kinda creepy.”

Of all the morphs we'd done, a rat didn't even rank on the creepy list. <Can you put me in the maze, please? I need to see for myself what's going on.>

Rachel set me down in the maze near the real Courtney. She watched me, a little wary of my presence but not overly distressed. I felt the same about her. She was just a strange rat, probably scavenging in the same place I was; possibly aggressive, but most likely not. She had no smell, which was a little weird to my rat brain; I could only smell myself. I wanted to press myself into a corner of the maze and gain what little shelter I could from the big, lumbering animal that had grabbed me, but I had a job to do.

There was nothing particularly scary in the maze, nothing that should prevent Courtney from wanting to take it. All she had to do was find the food at the end. Perhaps it was something further on? I trotted forward, sniffing deeply to pick up the scent of food.

No scent of food. Huh.

My little rat nose couldn't smell the fruit and nuts at the end of the maze. That was weird. I could smell the people who'd been trooping through the room all day, but not the food that was a couple of feet away?

I looked around, puzzled. Then I noticed the breeze. I aimed my rat eyes upward. There, a million miles up, as far away as the moon, was a ceiling fan.

If I'd had lips, I would have smiled.

<It's the fan,> I told Rachel. <It's blowing the scent of the nuts away.>

“Great,” she hissed. “Now can we get out of here?”

I went to exit the maze, only for Rachel to almost immediately whisper “Stop! Company! Oh... it's Chapman!”

Chapman. If he saw Rachel, if he thought she was anything suspicious... how cautious would he be? Would he drag her off to the yeerk pool then and there?

<Hide!>

But Rachel didn't need to be told. She was already gone.

I sat frozen in the maze while somebody, presumably Chapman, stomped around, opening cupboards and drawers and muttering curses under his breath. Several minutes later, he stomped out.

<Rachel?> I ventured.

<Is he gone?>

<Yes. Where... and what... are you?>

<Shrew in the storage cupboard. He started looking around, I had no choice.>

<Alright, let's...> The door opened again. <Oh, for – now what?!>

Suddenly, my rat brain wanted very, very much to find somewhere to hide. I motored through the little maze, looking for shelter. A voice rang out, causing me to freeze.

"HEY, LOOK! RATS!" the impossibly loud voice shouted. A boy, I was sure of that. I didn't recognize the specific voice, but I recognized the tone. He was looking for trouble.

"GROSS!" another voice shouted. "SOMEONE SHOULD EXTERMINATE 'EM. I HATE RATS!"

Two of them. Two guys playing around. Two jerks looking for something to break or destroy.

Two very, very big creatures compared to us tiny rats.

Sudden shadows! Vibrations. Huge movements!

WHAM!

The table shook like it was hit by a massive earthquake!

WHAM! THUD!

A shadow, moving fast, descending on me. I jumped!

THUD!

The tabletop jumped from the impact of the boy's hand slamming down near me. I felt the maze being lifted. It tilted wildly up on its side. I could see the entire maze, now a wall instead of a floor.

Courtney fell out of the maze onto the table. The two of us were trapped on the tabletop.

<Rachel?>

<Chapman left the closet open, I can't find anywhere to demorph!>

"HERE! A BROOM!"

THWACK!

Something the size of a pine tree slapped the surface of the table. It was a broom handle. The handle swept across the table, coming right at us, a wooden log half my own height.

I jumped. Rats don't look like jumpers, but when they have to, they can.

I leaped from the edge of the table just as the broom handle slammed down in the very spot where I'd been standing.

The fall seemed to take forever. It was like skydiving. The linoleum tiles looked like some strange farmlands far beneath me.

I hit the floor hard. My legs didn't catch the impact. They were too short. My big furry belly took the blow. But it knocked the wind out of me.

Run! Run! Run! Rachel the shrew was in a corner, clearly looking for somewhere to demorph safely. But the boys weren't paying attention to me. They were surrounding Courtney in the corner, jabbing at her with a broom handle.

A cold, slow fury washed over me. She was just a defenceless rat! And they were attacking her for no reason!

<Jake,> I said calmly, <is going to kill us for this.>

<Let's kick some butt,> was all Rachel added.

I aimed right for the leg of the nearest guy. It was the size of a redwood, except that this redwood was blue. Baggy blue denim.

<Are you thinking what I'm thinking?> I asked Rachel.

<I'm with you,> she said.

We motored our tiny rodent feet and shot forward. Faster, faster, as fast as we could go. Which, happily, turned out to be fairly fast.

Up the pants leg! I saw a flash of skin above the socks. I went for it. My tiny clawed feet grabbed onto that white gym sock and went straight up. It was like going into a tunnel. The rough denim of the jeans scraped along my head and back. The pink flesh curved away beneath me. I dug my claws, front and back, into the skin and hairs of that huge leg, and shot wildly up the back of his leg.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Suddenly, the boy was no longer interested in Courtney.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH! IT'S ON ME! IT'S ON ME! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF MEEEEE!"

"NOOOO! OH! OH! OH!" the other boy screamed, as Rachel attacked.

<Yaaahhhh!> I cried, as the leg was thrown wildly back and forth. I slammed against the denim wall. I was slammed back against the curved pink skin. I scrambled wildly to hold on as the boy screamed and ran and shook his leg like a lunatic.

"AAAAAHHH! AAAAAAHHH! AAAAAHHHH!"

Out of the science lab we tore. Out into the hallway, with the two guys screaming the whole way.

I turned myself around, with great difficulty, and aimed downward. Out I shot. Out of the pants leg to freedom.

The last I saw of the two guys, they were still running in sheer panic.

We spent a good half-hour trying, and failing, to find Courtney. I hoped that she found a nice home in the school walls or something. Then we demorphed, fished our stuff out from the shelf where Rachel had stashed it, and went to Rachel's house to give her little sister a home perm. Business as usual.


	2. Chapter 2

We had a meeting planned the next afternoon in the barn. I rushed to get my chores done before everyone arrived. It was bad enough that our 'study group' hadn't helped my biology grades; if I fell behind on my chores as well, I'd probably end up grounded. Which would make freedom fighting difficult.

Rachel was the first to arrive. "Hey, Cassie."

"Hi, Rachel." I was bent over, concentrating on wiping out a raccoon's cage. I could tell the raccoon was seriously considering leaping on my face and chewing my nose.

"You get that outfit at Banana Republic? Or is that the new Express line?"

I glanced down at my overalls and rubber boots. Then I stood back from the raccoon cage. I smiled and gave a little twirl so Rachel could admire the outfit. "You like it? It's part of the Ralph Lauren Animal Poop collection."

"Someday I am going to knock you over the head, stuff you in a big bag, drag you to the mall, and force you to buy a dress. You can keep the big rubber boots, if you insist, but we're getting you a dress."

"You're kidding, right?" I asked Rachel. You can never be totally sure with Rachel.

She just smiled with her ten thousand bright white teeth.

I heard the sound of bikes being leaned up against the outside of the barn. Then I heard male voices.

"Batman could beat Spiderman? You expect me to take that seriously? Are you insane? I thought I knew you, Jake, but you're obviously an idiot. No offense. Spiderman would annihilate Batman."

Marco. Marco, sounding as serious as Marco is capable of sounding.

"Two words -- body armor. Spiderman's webs would not stick to Batman's body armor. Homer, stay out here, boy. You can't go in."

That would be Jake. And Homer, his dog. Homer is not allowed in the barn. Being a dog, Homer believes small animals are meant to be chased. I wasn't sure why Jake even brought Homer. I supposed that he was probably doubling up on chores like I was; walking the dog while attending an Animorphs meeting.

"Cassie," Marco said as he trooped in behind Jake, "you look beautiful, as always. Your use of manure as a fashion statement is so tasteful." Then he gazed at Rachel and winced. "Yikes! Every time I see you, you're taller. Stop it. Stop growing."

Rachel patted Marco on his head. "Don't worry. I don't look down on you for being short, Marco. I look down on you just for being you."

Marco grabbed his chest in pain. "Aargh! And Xena puts another spear in me."

"Hi, Jake," I said, ignoring the usual Marco-versus-Rachel stuff.

"Hi, Cassie," he said. He looked at me and cocked an eyebrow. A very serious eyebrow. “Hey, I heard this weird story. These two guys at school claim they were attacked by a pair of lab rats."

"Really? I didn't hear about that," I said, trying not to make the fakey, shrill sound I always make when I'm telling a lie I didn't prepare in advance.

Jake raised one eyebrow and I quickly went back to cleaning out the cage.

"What are we here for?" Rachel asked bluntly.

Jake shrugged. "Tobias told me to get everyone together. He and Ax have something."

Right on cue, we heard a flutter of wings. Tobias shot in through the open hayloft above. He turned sharply, killed his speed, swept his talons forward, and landed neatly on a rafter. <Hi.>

"Hi, Tobias," Rachel said, clearly trying to sound casual. "I thought maybe you'd stop by last night."

<Um, well, I was going to,> he said in thought-speak. <But there was this thing with Ax... >

"Speaking of which, is Ax coming?" Jake asked.

<No. He's still out keeping an eye on things. Or four eyes, actually. >

Jake and I exchanged a glance. Like me, Jake still wasn't entirely certain how on-board Ax was with the Animorphs. He said he trusted us, and he'd told us about Seerow's Kindness, but I didn't think he'd ever see us as equals. It didn't matter, though. He fought alongside us, and his people were our allies. We could make it work.

"What things?" Marco asked, beginning to sound impatient.

Tobias swooped down to be closer. He landed on the top edge of a stall door. He checked out the many cages. At the moment we had, in addition to the raccoon, a fox, two wolves, a handful of various bats, a really cool porcupine, a pair of jackrabbits, a deer that had been mauled by a bear, several doves, a goose, a swan cygnet, a whole group of assorted gulls, a beautiful red-winged blackbird, and a barn owl.

<What happened to the golden eagle?> Tobias asked.

"He's all better so we released him," I admitted. Golden eagles occasionally kill and eat hawks. "We released him way back in the hills, though. Nowhere near your territory, Tobias."

Tobias didn't look too happy. But then, Tobias has a hawk's face, so he never looks anything but fierce.

“Tobias?” Marco repeated. “What things?”

<Oh. Yeah. It looks like someone is getting ready to start logging in the forest.>

"No way!" I cried.

The others were less upset.

"So what?" Marco asked.

"So habitat will be destroyed! So animals will be made homeless! So old-growth trees will be chopped down to make plywood!" I snapped. "That's so what."

Marco frowned. "And I care about this . . . why?"

I started to answer, but Tobias cut me off.

<You don't care, Marco. But you might care about who is doing the logging. >

"I'm guessing a logging company," Marco suggested.

<Yeah. You're right,> Tobias said. <Only this logging company has built a command center deep in the forest. A log building, actually, like you'd expect. Except for one little thing. >

"What one little thing?" Jake asked.

<The building is protected by a force field. A force field that seems to stop anything that gets near. I tried to fly closer, and it was like hitting a wall. Also, there are armed guards walking the perimeter around the building, and patrolling up and down the access road. >

"Oh," Jake said.

<Guards armed with automatic rifles. >

"Yeerks?" Rachel wondered. "But why would the yeerks want to be logging in the forest?"

"They want to destroy habitat," I explained.

"What? Now the yeerks are out to destroy the deer and the owls?" Marco said with a dismissive laugh. “Is this Captain Planet? Are we actually the Planeteers now?”

"No," I said. "It's not owl habitat they want to destroy. They're after a different species."

<Yeah,> Tobias agreed. <They're going to wipe out the habitat of the very, very endangered Animorph. >


	3. Chapter 3

"The yeerks are right there in our forest. Fine," Rachel said with her usual enthusiasm for anything dangerous. "Let's go take a look."

"If this is a yeerk operation, we have to be careful," Marco said. "They're expecting us."

We all nodded. The yeerks thought we were andalites. They were trying to wipe out andalite habitats. Of course they expected us to notice. If we didn't notice, then they were in the wrong area.

“There's one thing I don't get,” I said. "How did they ever get permission to cut trees in a national forest?"

Marco rolled his eyes, like I was being an idiot. "Who cares? The fact is, they did."

"If we're going to take a look at this place, we can't show up there in a big group," Jake said. "We split up, go in two groups. In different morphs. We see what we see, but we do nothing. Agreed?"

Everyone nodded.

"So. If it's okay with everyone, I'll go in with Rachel. I'll morph the peregrine falcon. Rachel, you can morph your bald eagle. Tobias will show us the way. That's a lot of excellent eyes to look things over. Cassie, you go in with Marco. Get a different perspective. Marco, no Captain Planet evil-logging-company jokes. They’re obvious and they’re beneath you."

I frowned. There wasn’t anything particularly objectionable in Jake’s team selection, but he’d sure been quick to suggest it. "Why can't I go with Rachel?" I asked.

"Because you and Rachel just egg each other on," Jake said.

He knew about the rat thing. He definitely knew. The elephant thing at the circus might have something to do with it, too. "Oh, you mean like you and Marco egg each other on?"

Jake nodded and gave me a wink. “You could say that. Yep. Exactly."

Ten minutes later, Marco and I were walking across the far fields of my farm, wading through tall grass toward the edge of the forest.

“It's a good thing Tobias caught this,” I commented. “Forest this big? It could've been months before we found it.” I looked back behind us, making sure that we were completely obscured by trees. “It’s probably safe to morph now.”

Marco nodded. “We'll move faster as wolves.” After a moment, he added, “Does it ever weird you out?”

“Morphing? Yeah. It's totally bizarre.”

“Even for you?”

“Why not for me?”

“Because you're the Morphing Queen.”

I laughed. “Oh please. We all morph.”

“But you're good at it. You have a kind of... instinct.”

“I have knowledge. Biology knowledge. And practice.” I looked at my own human hand, at its creepily elongated fingers. When you start comparing them to other mammals, especially when you've been other mammals, primates are downright weird. “But it's still bizarre.”

“Even Ax says you've got a special talent. He called you, um...” Marco frowned. “Some kind of flowy word with a sibilant in it. _Strill_?”

“You want bizarre, andalite language is bizarre,” I said as I removed my outer clothing.

“We can't judge that. We know hardly any andalite words.”

“Yeah. Exactly. Words. I mean, I'm sure you've noticed that Ax and Elfangor and even sort of Visser Three have always spoken... differently, like more in feelings and concepts than words, but the words are there. They have names that we can verbally pronounce. They have these other random words for andalite things, and we can pronounce those, too. But _they don't have mouths_. So why do they have a phonetic language?”

Marco shrugged. “International relations?” He pushed the last of his clothes into a backpack and crouched on the forest floor, preparing to morph. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “ _Estreen_. That's what Ax called you. You have a talent for morphing, so you're an _estreen_.”

“ _Estreen_ , huh?” I might not agree with Ax, but I had to admit I liked the way the word rolled off the tongue. “Whatever he says.” I closed my eyes and focused on the wolf within me.

I felt my jaw stretching and stretching outward. The bones made a slight grinding sound as my small, weak human mouth became the powerful, crushing jaw of the wolf. My human mouth and teeth could barely cut through a tough steak. The wolf jaw and teeth could tear the throat out of a living, struggling deer.

My gums itched as my teeth grew longer.

"See? Thrat's whuk I mearrrn," Marco said, trying to make sounds even as his human tongue and lips disappeared. In a few more seconds he was able to switch to thought-speak. <See? That's what I mean. Look at how much better you are at morphing than I am. That looks very creepy, by the way. >

I had controlled the morphing so that the wolf's head appeared completely formed before anything else happened. I was a completely normal girl with just the downiest growth of fur and a massive, shaggy wolf's head atop my shoulders.

<I didn't really think much about it,> I said. <Sometimes my brain just seems to have its own ideas about morphing.>

The rest of the morph continued. My knees reversed direction. They did that worryingly often when morphing and it always weirded me out, because technically, my knees had just become my ankles. Morphing wouldn't be half as strange if the changes made some sort of consistent biological sense. My legs grew smaller. Rough pads replaced my feet. The fur on my body grew long and rough and grayish in color.

I fell forward onto my front legs, no longer able to stand.

The wolf's instincts began to surface, but they weren't a problem. I knew the wolf. I'd been the wolf when fighting, when fleeing, when scouting and when simply running for the sheer pleasure of it. I knew what to expect from the wolf brain, and how to handle it.

Then the wolf's senses came on, replacing my human perception. The sudden sharpening of senses to unbelievable levels always takes me a bit my surprise. Wolves have amazing smell and hearing. It's simply beyond comprehension if you haven't experienced it. It's not like experiencing the amazing sight of an osprey, because sight is already a human's dominant sense. A whole new world just opens up.

I filtered out the sounds and scents that weren't important. The sound of a small rodent to my right. The smell of healthy horses in the paddock behind me. I could smell something that my wolf brain found very strange, but I knew from experience to be an andalite – Ax. I could smell myself on my clothes and in the forest around me. I could smell Marco, and his scent reminded me of something else, something that made me feel a bit wary and afraid, but I couldn't quite place it.

<Cool,> Marco said. He had less experience than me as a wolf, I realised.

<Way cool,> I agreed.

<Let's go. Let's run. >

Wolves like to run.


	4. Chapter 4

Wolves can run. Wolves can run all through the night, without stopping or slowing or taking a break.

We ran, Marco and I, jumping fallen logs, swerving through trees, and skirting patches of thorns. Across sunset-lit meadows, and through dark stands of tall pines. We splashed happily through streams and skittered across rocks.

We were running on sensation, our heads swimming with smell and sound and sight. There was nothing within a thousand yards that we didn't know about. We were plugged into the data stream of nature itself.

We smelled the logging camp long before we reached it. Then we heard the sounds of machines. And we heard the murmurs of conversation. Human voices.

We were almost at the camp by the time we got a reminder that we were not the only hyper-alert predators in the forest.

<Is that you guys?> a thought-speak voice asked. Jake's voice.

<Yes. Where are you?> I asked.

<Way up above you,> Jake said with a laugh. I stopped running and craned my head back like I was going to howl at the moon. Through a break in the trees I saw a patch of sky. And way, way up in that sky, I saw three tiny black dots.

Tobias, Rachel and Jake, floating a quarter-mile up. Even in the weakening light they had seen us from clear up in the bellies of the clouds.

<The place is just ahead. Lots of heavy equipment. Guards. But go take a look. Just be careful.>

<We'd hang out, but the sun's going down and we won't be able to see much more anyway,> Tobias remarked.

<You saw us,> I pointed out.

Tobias laughed. <Yeah, but you're a pair of great big wolves. That's not much of a challenge. Now, that flea crawling by your ear…>

<You can't see a flea,> I said uncertainly.

<Heh, heh, heh,> Tobias answered. <Can't I?>

Marco and I started moving forward again, but slower than before. More cautiously. Through the trees we began to see light. Artificial light.

We crept slowly nearer, shoulders hunched, heads low, ears aimed forward, sniffing the wind for clues.

The command center building was bigger than it had looked at first. It was made of logs, like some kind of rustic ranger station. It was two stories tall, with a porch on the front. On the back-and-side ground levels there were no windows. None at all. There were windows on the upper level, but they were dark. Too dark for me to see into.

There were blindingly bright spotlights mounted atop the building. The forest had been cut back a hundred feet or so on all sides of the building, and the bare, scarred earth all around was lit as bright as the sunniest day. A dozen or so huge pieces of equipment were parked neatly side by side. Earthmovers, oddly shaped cranes, trucks, and some monstrous thing that looked like a huge kid's toy. I guessed that it was used to cut trees.

My heightened wolf senses noticed several men walking around the perimeter of the clearing. They were spaced about fifty yards apart and seemed very alert. The nearest one was walking just in front of us. Marco and I crouched low behind tree trunks and stood perfectly still.

The man wore a tan uniform. At least, I think it was tan. Wolf colour vision isn't great. The legs of his pants were tucked into high leather boots. He carried an automatic rifle.

<Okay, this does look just slightly extreme for a logging camp,> I said. <That guy is no lumberjack.>

I aimed my ears at the building, but no sounds came from inside. Either there was no one in there or they had soundproofed the place really well.

<Are you getting anything?> Marco asked me.

<Not from inside the building.>

<Something smells weird.>

<You're probably just smelling the hork-bajir,> I told him. Marco hadn't had as much experience with them in wolf morph as I had. He'd smelled them once, before we attacked the supply ship. I knew what their blood tasted like in a wolf mouth. <But the guards are all human,> I added. <We can't be sure that these guys are with the yeerks. The might just be hired hands.>

<But don't forget -- the force field. Hired hands are probably gonna be a bit confused by the force field. They have to be Controllers.>

<Good point.> I fell silent. I had heard a noise. Several noises. Movement. Careful, stealthy movement.

I glanced at Marco. I saw that his ears were pricked up, too. <Yeah, I heard it,> Marco said. <Behind us. Someone circling around. >

I felt the knife edge of fear. The human part of me was afraid. The wolf part of me was not. But I trusted the human instinct more on this.

<Where are the guards?> I asked.

<Uh-oh,> Marco said.

Blinding light!

Light everywhere. Everywhere! The whole world was a brilliant white.

I felt like the whole universe could see me.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

The sound of sharp, cracking explosions in the trees above us. I glanced up. Something falling. A net!

Big steel nets were exploding from the trees above us, falling toward us. There were heavy weights at the edges.

<RUN!>

We bolted. The net above me fell. I was racing the falling edge, racing, racing...

Free! The net scraped my back. But I was out from under!

TSEWWW! TSEWWW!

A brilliant stab of red light shot from the dark upper windows of the log building. The beam hit the base of a tree not six inches from me. The wood was vaporized. A six-inch hole was blown right through its trunk. Dracon beams!

I started to run. But something felt wrong. Marco! Where was he?

I turned and looked back. He was under the net! He was weighed down and crawling on his belly to get free of it.

I ran back.

<Cassie, get out of here!>

<Not gonna happen.> I grabbed the edge of the net in my jaws and lifted it up. It was shockingly heavy. No wonder Marco was crawling.

TSEWWW! TSEWWW!

The Dracon beams, almost pale in the brilliant floodlit woods, fired again and again.

<Get out of here!> Marco yelled. <Don't get killed for me.>

<Shut up and come on!> I cried.

TSEWWW! TSEWWW!

I couldn't hold the net. My jaws were aching. My neck was dragging down. Marco was barely inching forward. The Dracon beams were getting more and more accurate.

And now I saw where the guards had disappeared to. They were running through the woods toward us. Half a dozen men carrying automatic weapons. It was an eerie and terrifying sight, as the men cast gigantic shadows up into the tree-tops.

Then . . . something fast. Faster than a wolf. Faster than a human. Something blue, flitting between trees like they weren't even there, barrelling down on us.

Ax!

His tail struck, faster than a human eye could follow.

The tail blade made sparks as it sliced through the net, leaving a long gash just in front of Marco's nose.

<Yikes! That was a little close!> Marco said. But he surged through the hole in the net and took off. I was right behind him. Wolves are already fast. But when you get a scared wolf with a scared human mind inside it, you'd be amazed how that animal can move. We hauled our butts out of there, with Ax right beside us.

BAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAM!

Gunfire! Good, old-fashioned, human, very deadly gunfire.

It's much louder in reality than it is in movies. And echoey, reverberating through the trees. And it's much scarier to have it aimed at you than it is to see it in a movie. Basically, getting shot at is absolutely nothing like a movie.

<Aaaaahhh!> I yelled.

<Aaaaahhh!> Marco yelled.

<Aaaaahhh!> Ax agreed.

Two wolves and an andalite set a new record speeding away from that place.


	5. Chapter 5

"Okay, I think we've answered the question about whether that's just an ordinary logging camp," Marco said.

We had reached the far edge of the forest, back close to my farm. Marco and I had demorphed. Rachel and Jake flew down and joined us. Tobias took up a perch on a low branch.

Ax stood nearby. His two stalk eyes moved continuously, side to side, peering into the dark woods around us. His two main eyes met my gaze.

"By the way, thanks, Ax," I said.

"Yeah, no kidding," Marco added. "I was Spam back there. That tail blade of yours is something."

<I should have spotted the nets up in the treetops,> Ax berated himself. <I had detected the force field and I suspected there were Dracon beams in the upper windows. But the nets were so primitive I overlooked them.>

"None of us saw the nets," Jake pointed out. "They must have been well-concealed."

"The point is, they were waiting for us," Marco said. "This is definitely a yeerk operation. I don't think they really want to go into the lumberjack business, which means this whole thing is about getting us."

"Agreed," Rachel said tersely. "They think we're andalites. They know we've been hurting them all around this area. They've decided we must be hiding in these woods."

"They're almost right," Jake pointed out. "Ax and Tobias both do live in the forest. And we do use the forest."

“So we move both of them further into the mountains,” Marco shrugged. “The yeerks have tagged us as living in this area now. We relocate Ax and Tobias, maybe attack the logging camp every now and then to keep up the illusion, and let them waste their time and resources here.”

<I'm not giving up my meadow to alien slugs,> Tobias said flatly.

“There may not be any other option,” Marco said.

"You know, we're not the only thing going on here," I pointed out.

They all looked puzzled.

"I mean, you know, this forest is important even if Tobias and Ax weren't here. It makes me sick to think of people chopping down all these trees."

"Oh, puh-leeze, not the Earth-Mother thing, okay?" Marco said. "I almost got myself fried by a Dracon beam. That wasn't to save Bambi, all right?"

I took a deep, steadying breath. "Look, Marco, we are not the only animals around. We, of all people, ought to understand that."

"Cassie, who cares? We're fighting to save the world from the yeerks. Who cares about some ecology, tree-hugging, recycle-your-cans stuff?"

"I do," I said, “because it's the same fight, Marco. Like you said, we're fighting to save the world. Which the yeerks are currently mulching.”

"Well, that's your opinion," Marco said. "But I'm not getting killed for trees. Personally, what I care about is the fact that a bunch of yeerks have that, that fortress back there, and they're going to use it to tear up these woods looking for us."

I started to say something back, when Jake held up his hand. "It seems to me it doesn't matter whether we have slightly different ideas about why we care. I mean, either way, we want to stop this from going on. Right?"

He looked at Marco, then at me. It took a great effort of will for me not to glare at him. I understood that he had to consider everyone's ideas equally. But it was like he was agreeing with Marco that it didn't matter if the forest was wiped out, as long as we survived.

I turned to Rachel for support, but she found something to look at down on the ground. _Oh, great,_ I thought. _Even Rachel thinks I'm wrong._

“Actually,” Marco reminded us, “I'm saying that we should just leave this alone. Pick our battles. Let them waste resources looking for us.”

<I'm not moving,> Tobias stated.

“Tobias is right,” Rachel agreed. “We can't start running now. We can't let them put us at a disadvantage.”

“ _We'd_ be putting _them_ at a – ”

“No, Marco, we wouldn't. Tobias and Ax live close enough for us to meet up with them easily. What you're suggesting would not only make it harder to meet up for missions, but we'd have to move around a massive logging camp every time we wanted to go into the forest. Now, if the yeerks had started digging somewhere more convenient, I'd be all for letting them go on a wild goose chase. But I don't think we should give any ground here.”

“Even if we stop this logging, we give away their location. What's to stop the yeerks coming back next week and, I don't know, just setting this part of the forest on fire with Dracon beams?”

“Let's... let's tackle that problem when we come to it,” Jake interjected. “Let's take a vote on whether to do something about this logging camp first.”

We voted. Five to one. We were doing something about the logging camp.

"And how exactly do we do that?" Marco asked. "That place is the Fortress of Doom."

"Knock it down? Blow it up?" Rachel mused.

"Grab some of that heavy equipment they have and run it into the place?" Jake suggested.

"We don't have the benefit of surprise. They know we're coming. They know sooner or later we're gonna go after them."

<The heavy equipment would be useless,> Ax said. <That building is surrounded by a force field. The equipment would not penetrate it. Neither would we. We would be stopped by the force field and then cut to pieces by the Dracon beams.>

“We've blown up yeerk spaceships with construction equipment before,” Jake pointed out.

<Yeerk spaceships do not operate well within an atmosphere,> Ax explained, <and they do not have force fields because they interfere with their cloaking mechanisms and zero-space travel. But a static field on a stationary building is virtually impenetrable.>

“There's got to be some way to... to disable it, or something,” Rachel said.

<Not from the outside.>

"You know, I wouldn't want to sound like some stupid ecology nut or anything," I said sarcastically. "But the question is: How did the yeerks ever get permission to start logging in a national forest?"

"Why is that helpful?" Marco asked, even more sarcastically.

"Because sometimes, Marco, there are more subtle ways of doing things. The yeerks don't control the entire government. Not yet, anyway. So they had to get legal permission. If they didn't have permission they'd have cops and federal agents and TV newspeople all over them. They don't want that."

Marco looked like he had some smart reply to make. Then he said, "Oh."

Jake cocked an eyebrow at his best friend. "See, Marco, this is why Cassie is a nicer person than you. She could have said, "'They don't want that, duh.'"

Marco grinned, despite himself.

Jake smiled at me. "What do you think we should do?"

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “The yeerks must have gotten to someone. Somebody with the power to make these sorts of decisions. A Controller in a high position. Maybe several. We need to find out who.”

<And how do we do that?> Tobias asked.

"I guess ..." I shrugged.

"We have to get inside that building," Jake said for me.

I nodded. The least I could do was agree.

“Which brings us back to square one.” Rachel shook her head. "I don't know any animal strong enough to force a way inside that place. If Ax is right, if earthmoving equipment can't do it, then where are we supposed to get that kind of raw power?"

“I don't know," I said. "This might require some thought.” But maybe raw power wasn't the answer.

Sometimes, there are subtler ways of doing things.


	6. Chapter 6

“Where have you been?" my dad asked me when I finally got back home later that evening. He was in the kitchen, searching the refrigerator.

It kind of took me by surprise. My parents don't usually ask me a lot of questions. Mostly they trust me. Which was a good thing, because I was a pretty bad liar. I don't think I'd lied to my parents before becoming an Animorph. Now it's like I'm lying all the time.

"Oh . . . um, I was just out walking," I said, trying not to sound unnerved by the question. There were plenty of normal reasons why a father might want to know where his daughter was. It didn't necessarily mean he was an alien invader who thought that me not being around at the same time the andalite bandits were found around the logging camp was suspicious or anything. "Why? Did you need me for something?"

"Oh, yes," he said. He was sounding way too solemn. I relaxed. 'Solemn' meant he wasn't being serious. I guess he has a dry sense of humor. That's what Jake says, anyway. He thinks my dad is the funniest man on the planet.

"What is it?"

"Just got a call from the highway patrol. They said this . . . this certain animal ... is out by the side of the highway, where it cuts through the forest. They say this certain animal seems to have a bad burn."

I didn't like the way he kept saying 'certain animal.'

"We have to drive out and get it," my dad said. Then he grinned. "Actually, I'll drive. You have to get it."

I groaned. There was only one animal in the world my dad was afraid of. He handled foxes and wolves and even bears. But he would not handle this 'certain animal.'

"Are you telling me it's a skunk?" I asked.

He nodded. "You have such a way with skunks," he said. "They like you. Besides, I have to go meet with the board of the Dudette Cat Food Corporation tomorrow. I can't show up smelling like skunk."

My mom appeared, climbing up from the basement. She was carrying a six-pack of V-8 juice.

"This is all I could find in the pantry," she said. Tomato juice is one of the few things that helps get rid of skunk smell.

"Mom, shouldn't you be the one to help dad with this? I ... I have very important homework to do."

“Yeah, right," my mom said.

"This is pathetic. You guys are both highly trained veterinarians," I pointed out. "How can you be scared of skunks?"

"I didn't used to be," my father said darkly. "Back before . . . before the incident."

"Just because one skunk sprayed you -"

"In the face," he said.

"Just because you had one bad experience -"

"He sprayed me six times in about three seconds," he said. "I smelled for a week. Your mother made me sleep in the barn. Except the other animals there all became agitated, so I had to set up a tent in the yard."

"Then we had to burn the tent," my mother added. She giggled.

"You do have a way with skunks," my father said. "Actually, you have a way with all animals. Come on, you know skunks love you."

"A burned skunk by the side of a highway loves no one," I said. But I'd lost, and we all knew it.

On the way to pick up the skunk, we talked about vet stuff. About the Clinic. About skunks, and other animal rescue trips we'd been on. Things we could both remember, that we both knew about, that I didn't need to lie about.

I hadn't realised how little I'd really talked to my parents since the whole Animorph thing started. Or how much I'd missed it.

We reached the spot the highway patrol had told my dad about, pulled over, and put on the hazard lights.

"Careful. People drive like maniacs through here," Dad warned me as we climbed out.

Cars were blowing past at seventy miles an hour with their high beams on. The black forest pressed in around the road on both sides. I shone a flashlight around the edge of the trees. Normally, the forest doesn't bother me. But I knew that we were actually within a quarter mile of the yeerk logging camp. It was beyond strange to be practically going back to the place where, just an hour before, I'd nearly been killed. I just had to trust that yeerk security was good enough that a random hork-bajir didn't stumble in on us or something, because if the yeerks saw us seeing something we weren't supposed to, I had no idea how we were going to get out of it.

It took us at least twenty minutes, walking up and down the grassy shoulder of the road, before my flashlight beam landed on a shock of black and white.

"Dad! Here!"

He came trotting over and added his light to mine.

"Yep," he commented. "I'll get the cage. Don't forget your gloves. You know skunks are a major vector for rabies."

"Dad, I have had the shot."

"No vaccine is a hundred percent," he said.

I walked toward the skunk. It saw me and turned tiny, glittering black eyes on me.

"Don't be afraid," I said, pitching my voice high. "It's okay. We're here to help you. It's going to be just fine."

Here's the thing about skunks: They are the sweetest animals alive. They don't have a mean bone in their bodies. But that's because they don't have to be mean. They possess the ultimate weapon.

Even so, they will always warn you. If they turn their backs on you, that's a warning. If they raise their tails with the tips down, that's a very serious warning. If they raise the tips of their tails ... you are in a very bad situation.

If you're dealing with a skunk who has turned buttward and raised its tail all the way, you would want to freeze. Trust me. Every wild animal knows this. Dogs, unfortunately, don't understand about skunks, but bears, raccoons, wolves, and most birds of prey know that you just don't mess with that skunk tail. Maybe you think you know how bad skunk musk is because you've driven by skunk roadkill. That's nothing. Up close and personal, it's a whole different level of stench. If you imagine the most horrible smell possible, then multiply it by a thousand, you still won't be close.

"It's okay, sweetie," I cooed. "Don't spray me. I'm your friend, so please don't spray me."

I moved closer, keeping my body low and my voice high, always cooing and baby-talking like I was going to grab a little kid armed with a shotgun. I advanced one step at a time, keeping my eyes averted, shoulders forward, fingers curled... all the little posture tricks you learn growing up handling wild animals.

The skunk moved! I froze.

The skunk settled back down. I breathed again.

"Please don't spray me," I said. I reached into my pocket and took out a bit of mouse meat. We keep frozen mice for the raptors we handle. Skunks also enjoy a nice mouse or grasshopper as part of their diets. "Here you go. Dinner." I held the meat out for the skunk. The skunk didn't seem to be hungry, but it did accept the fact that I must be okay if I was offering dinner.

I crouched beside the skunk and set my flashlight on the ground. Carefully, and very slowly, with my gloved hand, I reached out to touch the animal.

Picking up a wild animal is nothing like picking up a stray or a strange pet. The skunk likely knew nothing of humans, and if it did know something of us, it probably wasn't anything good. Skunks are harder than animals like wolves, because they don't live in family structures unless you count a mother raising very young babies. But they're easier than raptors, because they are at least mammals. And they do nurture their babies, so they do have a sense of cooperating with other animals.

Skunks aren't dumb. Very few wild mammals or birds are dumb. They can understand the concept of help from other animals, even big, clunky, unfamiliar animals like myself. And I'd done everything I could to promise this skunk that I was there to help. But ultimately, the skunk had to decide whether to trust me. If it was in enough fear and pain, it might very well decide I was a threat. And that would make helping it much, much harder. As I reached for it, the skunk stayed fairly still. Cautious consent. I kept watching, looking for any 'back off' signals, as my fingers brushed its body.

It was shaking. Shivering. And, at that very moment, I could see why. There was a burn right across the skunk's back. A perfectly semicircular burn, as if someone had simply sliced a scoop out of it.

"Dracon beam," I whispered. "You were there, weren't you? Poor baby."

Aiming at me and Marco, the yeerks had hit this skunk instead. A completely innocent animal caught in the cross fire of the war between yeerks and humans.

The yeerks would destroy all the forest and all its animals to get at us.

"Sorry," I whispered to the skunk.

I lifted it slowly, carefully, up into my arms.


	7. Chapter 7

One direct effect the yeerks had had on my life was to drastically increase my mall-going habits. I'd never been much of a mall person, but for a bunch of teenagers fighting a secret war who couldn't meet up in the same barn all the time, it was a natural enough meeting spot.

I spent an hour wandering along behind Rachel as she moved like a professional through the racks at The Limited and Banana Republic and The Gap and the various department stores. Rachel has some bizarre, supernatural instinct for when and where sales will happen. She doesn't need the advertising. She just "knows."

We were cruising through a series of tables piled with sweaters at Express. Rachel was looking for a particular shade of green that probably didn't exist.

"What do you think we're going to do?" I asked her.

She looked up from fondling a sweater. "What? Oh. I guess we'll probably go in. If we can find a way."

Well, that was descriptive. "That's what I was wondering. What way? How do we get inside that place? Posing as a Controller is way too dangerous."

“We could morph actual Controllers.”

“Still too dangerous. I mean, don't you think the Controllers might find it weird that we have morphs of them, and they've never touched an andalite?” I bit my lip. “Besides, that sounds like a great way to get our DNA sources executed by Visser three.” I didn't add that I was uncomfortable with the idea of morphing other humans without their permission. Nobody else seemed to care about that sort of thing. Besides, technically, Marco had already morphed Jake without his permission, and I hadn't really pegged to what was happening fast enough to refuse when Ax acquired my DNA. Not that either Jake or myself would have refused. But it was the principle of the thing.

Rachel shrugged. Then she glanced at her watch. "It's time. Ax is coming with them, so let's not keep them waiting."

"Ax? In the _food court_?"

“Jake and Marco can handle him.”

“Didn't they all end up nearly getting caught by Controllers and demorphing from lobsters in front of some random woman last time they tried that?”

“Oh come on, that was one time.” She shot me a smile. “But we should probably hurry anyway.”

We wandered through the food court, reasonably close to the boys, who were arguing loudly about who had won some video game in the arcade. "Hey! Rachel!" Marco called out as we passed by. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We're shopping," I muttered. "You know how I love shopping."

"Why don't you guys hang out with us. Have some of our nachos," Jake said, smiling brightly.

I looked at the paper plate of nachos. They were completely gone. There was nothing left but a paper plate with a slight orange stain from the cheese. There was a matching orange stain on Ax's chin.

Jake saw what I was looking at and rolled his eyes. "At least he didn't eat the plate this time."

"Hello," Ax said to me. "I am Jake's cousin, Phillip. Jake's cousin. Scousin. Scuzzin. I am from out of town."

“Phillip, huh?” I said. “Nice to meet you.” I'd told my parents that his name was Max. We'd have to keep careful tabs on that name thing, or it could come back to bite us.

"Were the nachos good?" I asked him. Technically, he'd improved a lot by just eating the nachos and not attempting to eat either the container, or the food of other diners.

"They tasted of grease and salt. Plus, there was another flavor that reminds me of some delicious engine oil I tried once. Oil. Oil-luh."

"Engine oil?" Jake asked. "Ax ... I mean, Phillip . . . You know how I mentioned you can't eat cigarette butts or dryer lint? Add engine oil to the list."

Ax nodded. "Yes. There are many rules for eating."

Marco grabbed a couple of spare chairs from a neighbouring table. "Okay, if we're done with the little side trip into the bizarre-o zone, let's deal with business."

"Tobias came by this morning," Jake said, keeping his voice low. "He watched the place from high up. He thinks the Controllers at the site have little transponders on their belts that let them pass through the force field."

"So we just have to grab a transponder," Rachel said.

"No," Ax said. "The transponder would be keyed to the biochemical signature of the wearer. The yeerks are not as -"

"Don't say that word," Jake hissed.

I saw Marco's eyes dart quickly, looking to see if anyone was close enough to have overheard.

"Sorry. Ree. Saw-ree," Ax said. "Rachel's plan would not work."

Jake sighed. "Tobias also saw something else. Inside the force field. There are tiny holes in the wood foundation of the building. He thinks it's termites at work."

Oh, no. No, no. no.

“Thing is, the termites are outside the field too. So they must have a way of getting in. We just need to find it.”

Jake took out a tiny white vial. Inside the vial was a single termite. “It shouldn't take too long. We morph, follow the others, and – ”

“No,” I said. “Not a chance.”

Everyone stared at me.

“Cassie,” Jake said, “this whole thing where we go in for information was your plan.”

“Not this way. Not as eusocial insects.”

“Oh,” Marco said in sudden understanding. “This is about the ant thing.”

“Yes,” I said. “This is about the ant thing.” I suppressed a shudder. “Guys, you do not want to be termites. Mission aside, eusocial insects are extremely dangerous morphs. You don't get it; there's nothing to... ground you, to help you control the instincts. You don't _want_ to control the instincts, the concept of wanting is irrelevant. It's... it's not a good morph, guys.”

Jake smiled gently and took my hand in his. “Cassie, it's okay. Nobody's going to try to make you do the termite.”

“Insects aren't your thing,” Rachel agreed. “We get that.”

“That's not it! This isn't about insects, okay? I mean, flies aren't a problem. But in terms of lifestyle, termites are awfully close to being ants. You guys don't understand the danger you're walking into.”

“Alright,” Jake said, apparently not understanding a word I'd said. “Cassie's out. Everyone else, let's grab some termite DNA.”

They didn't get it. It was all abstract to them. They didn't understand the very real danger of getting trapped in their own minds and, eventually, in tiny little termite bodies. And they were going to drag me along for the ride, because the only thing worse than them going along with this stupid thing was them going along with it without me to try, probably ineffectually, to protect them.

Oh my god. Was this how Marco felt all the time?!

I snatched the vial out of Jake's hand. “This is a dumb plan,” I said, “but everyone stands a slightly higher chance of actually making it out if the person with experience at being a eusocial insect comes along.” I tapped the termite out onto my palm and concentrated, imagining the essence of the termite washing through me.

It felt like poison.


	8. Chapter 8

We decided would go that night. That very night.

We were supposed to use the afternoon to deal with chores and family stuff and homework. Try it sometime. Try doing homework when you think you may be going to your doom in a few hours. Try concentrating on math when you're thinking you have to turn into a termite and sneak into a heavily defended building.

Good luck.

I went out to the barn. My dad was out there, making his rounds. He didn't need my help, but he didn't say no, either.

"Did you finish your homework?"

"Mostly." I added another lie to the pile I'd already had to tell.

"I was going to take a closer look at your skunk from last night. She was very agitated so I had to give her a mild sedative."

"It's a female?"

"Yep." My father carried the cage into the little side room he uses to examine the patients. I eased the skunk from her cage and cradled her out to the examination table. She seemed very calm now, but it was an unnatural, drugged calm.

The night before, my dad had bandaged the wound and now he carefully removed the gauze.

The sight of the burn made me wince, even though I'd seen hundreds of injured animals.

"Hmm. Hmm. Pah. Pah. Pah. Hmmm."

That's the sound my dad makes when he's examining something interesting. 'Pah.' I don't know why, he just does.

"Weird. Very unusual. I cannot for the life of me guess what caused this burn. It's too neat. Too clean. The only good thing is, whatever caused it was so hot it partially cauterized the tissue."

"Muscle damage, or is it just superficial?" I asked.

My dad glanced at me and smiled. "It's mostly fur and skin that were burned. But I see some moderately severe damage in the shoulder here. Much deeper and the spine would have been burned. But she'll live. I wish I could say as much for her kits."

"Her what? She has babies?"

"Yeah. I'd say probably about six, seven weeks old."

"She has babies? Out there somewhere in the woods?"

My dad started applying a new bandage. "Cassie, you know nature plays rough."

"But they're too young to survive on their own, aren't they?"

"I can't be sure," he said, not looking at me.

It occurred to me then that sometimes maybe he lied to me, too. For my own good. Or because of what he thought was my own good.

"They're sitting in some den wondering where their mother is," I said. "They'll starve to death. Or be eaten by predators."

"Hand me the scissors," my father said.

"Yeah. Okay. Um, look. I meant to ask you, is it okay if I spend the night at Rachel's tonight?"

"Sure, honey. You know, if your mom says it's okay. Hey. You never asked how my meeting went with the cat food people this morning. We got some additional funding!"

We talked for a while as we made rounds together. But my heart wasn't in it. I was thinking about some baby skunks somewhere, mewing and crying for their mother. It was a good thing that the conversation stayed on things I didn't have to lie about. I wasn't up to avoiding awkward questions right then.

Come to think of it, that was weird. My dad hadn't asked me about schoolwork, or my friends, or anything really, for days. We were talking like we'd always talked. Maybe he'd bought the 'moody teenager' routine and decided to just live with it? Except he wasn't treating me like a moody teenager. He was treating me like he'd always treated me. Like...

Like he'd suddenly stopped caring about any changes...

I forced myself to keep breathing normally. To keep responding normally. I said I needed to get going, and then I got out of there, ready to do something stupidly dangerous and probably get trapped as a termite forever.

What kind of world was I living in, where the most logical explanation for getting along with my dad was that he'd been enslaved by an alien invader?

But really, why else the change? And it would make sense, wouldn't it? He lived on the edge of the forest, he went into it sometimes looking for wounded animals and suchlike. And now he was about to lose his daughter, probably in the same week or so as being captured. And I couldn't even say goodbye. There wouldn't even be a body. And somewhere out in the forest, a den of skunk kits cried for a mother who wouldn't come home. Because of us. Because she'd been shot by enemies chasing us, one of whom was now looking after her to maintain his cover.

This was messed up. This was so messed up.

After my dad finished his rounds, I went back in and stuck my hand in the skunk cage. I wasn't wearing my glove.

You can't acquire DNA when wearing gloves.


	9. Chapter 9

“Well, what a surprise seeing you all here," Marco said in a low whisper.

"Everyone still up for this?" Jake asked.

"Sure," Marco answered. "We're looking forward to it. Who needs sleep when you can run off on a suicide mission instead?"

It was pitch-black. It was three in the morning. We were at the edge of the forest. Jake, Rachel, Marco, and me. Tobias was in the tree above us.

The same five kids who had wandered stupidly through a construction site at night on our way home from the mall. The same kids who had seen the andalite fighter land. The same five kids whose lives had been changed forever. We had been made into soldiers that night.

Soldiers in a terrible war we couldn’t hope to win.

Tobias had paid a terrible price. But so had the rest of us. There we were, in the dark, ready to do things that would make us scream if we ever stopped to think about them for too long. Ax was there, too. Poor Ax, who was even more alone than the rest of us. He was in his own body, his stalk eyes restlessly peering in every direction.

“I have a question,” Rachel whispered. “If we're getting inside this logging camp anyway, why not just break everything while we're there and call it a day?”

“They'd just rebuild,” I pointed out.

“Also,” Marco said, “that sounds like a great way to get shot at. A lot. I'm all for the good old boring navigate-the-bureaucracy plan.”

“Everyone ready to try our first new morph of the night?” Jake asked. We'd all acquired a great horned owl shortly before heading into the woods. Our normal bird morphs weren't great for travel at night, and we'd already been caught as wolves once.

Owls were good. It was about time we got some morphs with decent night sight. Besides, an owl morph would be good for my little side mission. Owls are the only natural predators of adult skunks. Some species of owl don't have a sense of smell. If you're going to eat skunks, that's a good thing.

I wasn't going to eat adult skunks, of course. I was going to try to find some skunk babies.

<Wish I could go with you guys,> Tobias said. <But I'm not much use at night. >

"You found us the way to get into this place," Jake said. "And you got us the termite to morph."

"And we're just so amazingly grateful," Marco said sarcastically.

We all laughed nervously. It was good to know that the others were all as scared as I was. Even if they clearly still thought this was a good plan. We stripped off our outer clothing. Jake wore a pair of bike shorts and a sort of spandex top. Marco snickered.

"What?" Jake demanded.

Marco put on an innocent face. "Nothing. Nothing. I'm just saying if we're going to be superheroes we need to do something about these stupid outfits. We look like refugees from a Bulgarian gymnastics competition. That's all I'm saying."

"Except for Rachel, of course," I pointed out. Naturally, Rachel had found a way to coordinate her outfit. She looked great.

"Here's the plan," Jake reminded us. "We morph owls to get close. We demorph at least two hundred yards away from the compound. Then we crawl close, morph termites, find their way in, and enter the termite holes in the outside of the building."

"As long as it's nice and simple," Rachel said darkly.

I just tried to push back the thoughts raging in my mind and focus on the owl. My grades, and the skunk kits, and my dad maybe being taken weren't going to be things I could do much about unless I could get through the stupid, stupid termite mission.

Feather patterns began to trace themselves on my skin, looking at first like henna, then very realistic tattoos. Then, suddenly, they popped out, three-dimensional. The tiny feathers along my arms stretched and spread into full wings as I shrank to match their size.

I could feel my skull deforming, my jaw warping. Something crunched in my neck. The skin on my legs grew rough as my toes melded and then split into talons. My heels stretched out, forming the back talons.

The talons were the main killing weapon of the great horned owl. An owl would fly along, silent in the night. Then it would strike, grabbing the prey – a rabbit, a squirrel, a rat, a skunk – by the head...

The bones all through my body were rearranging themselves. Many disappeared altogether. Others became twisted and misshapen. My breast bone grew deeper. My various finger bones grew longer first, then shorter. All of this made a grinding noise that resonated up through my body.

My internal organs were radically redesigned. And my eyes seemed to swell and swell till they filled my entire head. My eyes were so huge compared to my body that they practically rubbed together inside my skull.

Suddenly, it was no longer night. It was as bright as day.

The amount of light that was a dim, flickering candle to my human eyes was a spotlight to my owl's eyes.

<Whoa!> I heard Rachel cry.

<I enjoy these eyes very much,> Ax commented. <They are wonderful.>

I spread my arms wide and opened my wings. The change was complete. I felt the cold edge of the owl's instincts. The instincts of a predator, perfectly happy to chase down and lift up any furry little living thing that looked delicious. Or feathered little thing, for that matter.

<Ready?> Jake asked.

I flapped my wings and drew up my feet and rose easily into the tree branches that, in the darkness, were invisible to humans, but clear as blazing neon to me. I saw Tobias sitting perched on his branch. I felt his instinctive hawk's caution as a flight of five horned owls flew past.

The day belonged to the hawks. But night was ours.

<Good luck,> Tobias said. <Don't eat anything I wouldn't eat. >

We flew in a loose formation, not soaring above the trees, but flitting through them. Our wings didn't make a sound. An owl's wings are as carefully designed as the wings of the most advanced stealth fighter. More, really. The feathers are designed not to flutter or ruffle as the owl glides through the still night air. Frightened mice, listening for any possible danger, hear nothing at all as the owl swoops down for the kill.

As well as I could see, I could also hear everything. I could hear as well as a wolf. As we flew to what might be our destruction, I tried to focus on my other goal -- listening for the cries of skunk kits. Watching the ground below for the waddling, shuffling walk of a lost baby skunk.

<This is so weird,> Marco said. <I love this part. It's the next part I'm not looking forward to at all.>

<It'll be okay,> Jake said.

<Yeah, I mean, what could possibly go wrong?> Rachel asked dryly.

I swooped and zoomed through the trees. All the while I watched the ground below me and focused my hearing, and in that way I reached the yeerk compound without having to think too much about what was coming next.


	10. Chapter 10

<Almost there,> Jake said. <Another couple of minutes.>

Even in thought-speak I could hear the tension in his voice. I felt something like a cold hand squeezing my heart.

Then…

A noise. A noise against a background of noises. But this noise was one that the owl's brain wanted to hear. A noise the owl's brain had evolved to notice. The sound of helplessness. The sound of a weak creature. Weak, tiny, helpless babies.

There! It was coming from a hole that no other animal would have seen in the pitch-black of night. A hole dug beneath the roots of a thorn-bush.

Four... no, five separate voices. Were they the skunk kits? Maybe. I couldn't be sure. But it was night, and they sounded like they were alone. It could be.

I looked around, swivelling my owl's neck. I tried to form a picture of the place. The trees. The outcropping of rocks just twenty feet away. I wanted to be able to find the place again. If I was still around to find anything.

The mewling sound of the babies reached something inside me. Inside the human Cassie. Humans have a thing for babies, particularly baby mammals. Things are 'cute' if they have aspects like our own children. Tiny. Helpless. High-pitched little voices. But to the owl, it was the sound of a meal. To feel both at once was a strange kind of cognitive dissonance.

<Okay,> Jake said, a few seconds later. <Here.>

We swooped low and landed. I started to de-morph quickly. I didn't want to feel that predator in my mind any more. Not right then. It was too confusing. The world went dark as my human eyes re-emerged. The forest was a darker, quieter place to _Homo sapiens_.

I looked around and couldn't see any of the landmarks I'd tried to spot. I would never find those skunk kits in the dark. Not with human eyes, anyway. Maybe by the light of day. I could come back in the morning.

"Okay, we have to get as close to the edge of that compound as we can," Jake whispered. "We can't be spotted as humans. But we can't morph termites too far from the building. Termites don't exactly move fast."

<I have a suggestion, Prince Jake,> Ax said.

“Hmm?”

<A distraction. We could give the yeerks something to chase. >

I knew instantly what he had in mind. "An andalite?" I asked him.

<The yeerks would not be able to resist,> he said.

"You could end up very dead that way," Marco said.

"No, Ax," Jake said. "We need you inside. There may be yeerk computers in there. We need you.”

<Yes, humans may have difficulty with yeerk technology, I suppose,> Ax conceded neutrally.

“But a distraction isn't a bad idea," Jake continued. He looked at me. "Anyone want to volunteer? It's not exactly a safe mission, but..."

I met his eyes. He was offering me a way out. A way to avoid becoming a termite. I glanced at Ax; he was watching me, too. Had he done this on purpose? Was Ax the 'higher the danger, the greater the honor' andalite trying to offer me a way out of this mission without offending me? He'd been there, when I was an ant. He'd seen how much it freaked me out.

But that's why I needed to go. That's why I'd acquired the stupid termite. So I said nothing.

"Okay,” Jake said, “we draw straws. All except Ax. He goes in, regardless."

Jake pulled up four strands of tall grass. He shortened them all to about six inches. Then, he took one and shortened it further. "Short straw plays tag with the yeerks." He concealed the bottoms of the straws in his fist.

"Next time let's play some other game," Marco said as he drew a straw. "Yahtzee, maybe. I don't like games that involve life and death."

“We should've done this before acquiring the morph and saved someone the trouble,” I grumbled as I tugged a straw out of his hand. “We still don't know if there's some kind of morph limit.” I looked carefully at the straw in my hand. A long one.

Rachel drew. Also long. Jake looked shocked. He held the short straw.

We all stared. Somehow it just seemed automatic that Jake would be there with us.

Marco grinned. "Sooner or later we had to try a mission without you, oh great and fearless leader."

Marco could joke about it. But none of us felt right going in without Jake. Now it was too late to change that.

"Okay," Jake said briskly. "You guys know what to do. I'll use the wolf morph. The yeerks will be on the lookout for wolves." He started to walk away. Then he stopped and looked back. "Be careful, all right?"

"Go ahead, Mom," Rachel said. "We can handle this."

"At least we hope we can," I muttered.

Jake walked away and was quickly out of sight.

"Okay, we have to be ready as soon as Jake starts making trouble," Rachel said. "We hear something go down, we run toward the perimeter of the compound, staying just back in the trees, morph, and hope we can find the way to the building."

<What do you know about these termites we are morphing?> Ax wondered.

"They're like ants," Marco said.

"Actually, they're related to cockroaches," I said. I hoped they handled like cockroaches, too. But I doubted it. "I looked them up in one of my mom's books. They have a society like ants, but roaches are closer relatives. They eat cellulose – the stuff in wood. Bacteria in their guts digest the wood. The worker termites . . . they, um, they eliminate their waste. And the soldier termites kind of eat it. I think, judging from the termite Tobias brought us, that we are going to be morphing soldier termites."

The three of them were staring at me, looking a little sick.

"Well, Ax wanted to know," I said.

A light!

"Look!" I hissed. "Way off through the woods. That must be on the far side of the compound. The spotlights just went on."

We could hear the sounds of human voices yelling. And then, the wild, defiant howl of a wolf.

"That's it. Let's rock," Rachel said.

We ran toward the compound. We ran, hunched low, scurrying from tree to bush. Then, as we got still closer, we dropped down and crawled on all fours.

I heard shouting and the eerie zap of Dracon beams being fired.

"I hope he's okay,” I whispered. I didn't think anyone could hear me.                      

But Ax said, <Prince Jake is very smart. He will be fine. >

"Do you guys think we're close enough now?" Marco wondered. We were closer than we had been the day before. Just a few feet from the edge of the clearing. All of us hunched down behind one large tree trunk. Even Ax, which, in his normal state, is awkward for him. We huddled close, like some big group hug. When we morphed we would become tiny. And even a few feet between us would seem like a mile.

"Time to go termite," Rachel said. She had her arm around my back.

I was already sick with fear. Afraid for Jake. Afraid for my friends. Afraid of the very thing I was about to become.

"Can I just say that this sucks?" I muttered.

"Amen," Marco agreed. As my very bones rattled and my teeth chattered from fear, I began the process that would dissolve my bones, and melt away my teeth.

Down, down, down.

Falling . . . falling forever. It was like I had jumped off the Empire State Building and was falling. Yet even though I fell, I never quite hit the ground. I was going from a girl of less than five feet to an insect less than a quarter of an inch long. I was becoming something that could have crawled inside my own ear.

Already the others who had been so close seemed to be a long way off. With my eyes still mostly human, I could see Rachel's face lose its features, and bulge out. I saw the monstrously big mandibles spring like black, sideways tusks from her mouth.

And then, my eyes went dark. I was blind.

And I was glad.

 

I was less than a quarter of an inch long. I was as long as any two or three letters on this page. Grains of sand were the size of bowling balls to me. With my wildly waving feelers I could sense a huge, long shaft, like a fallen log. It was over my head. I slowly realized that it was a single pine needle.

I waited for the termite's instincts and mind to suddenly surge within my own. But the termite brain – such as it was – wasn't saying anything. It was totally silent.

That was bad. That was really, really bad.

My senses brought me almost nothing. I was blind. I could feel vibrations from sound, but they were vague. The termite's sense of "hearing" was not as good as its relative, the cockroach.

All I had was a sense of smell. Or something like smell that came from my antennae waving in the air.

<Everyone okay?> I asked shakily. I desperately wanted to talk to someone. Anyone. I needed to know the others were alive.

<Yeah,> Rachel answered. <I guess I am okay. It's just that I can't see anything. >

<Termites are blind, except for the queens and kings,> I said. I hoped that I sounded calmer than I felt.

<These are very strange creatures,> Ax commented. <I feel no instincts. It's as if they are just a body. A machine.>

<Believe me, Ax, that is not a good thing.>

<Well, let's get these bodies outta here,> Marco said. <Sooner or later the yeerks are going to get tired of chasing Jake around the woods. >

<Which way?> Rachel asked. <Slight problem -- we're totally blind. >

<I . . . maybe I'm crazy, but I get this sense . . . this feeling . . . like something is calling to me,> I explained.

<Okay, maybe,> Marco said. <I have the same feeling. Like someone yelling from a long way off.>

<Let's follow that. Whatever it is,> Rachel said. <It's as good a direction as any.>

I set out toward the vague, distant voice. I had no idea if the others were going in the same direction. I guess they were all within a few inches of me, but I couldn't tell.

The termite legs were not very strong or very fast. Not as fast as an ant's. I could feel the rocks I was climbing over. Or the grains of dirt, I guess they were. They felt like rocks, anyway. Jagged, sharp-edged crystals, seemingly as big as a human head.

I motored on all six legs, trying hard not to think about anything but moving forward. Just keep moving, I told myself. Don't think about how small and defenseless you are.

<Hey. I feel something,> Rachel said. <It's ... I guess it must be the edge of the force field.>

At the same time I reached the force field myself. I felt it as a tingling hum that vibrated my tiny body. I could feel the rocks around me vibrating. I could feel the very air around me dancing.

<At least we're going in the right direction,> Marco pointed out.

I moved closer to the invisible wall of snapping, humming power. Suddenly I realized my legs were just motoring away but I wasn't going anywhere.

<Any ideas on this part?> Marco asked.

<Without knowing more about the type of force field they are using, I do not know how to negate it,> Ax said apologetically.

I sensed one of those hugely long logs suspended in the air not far away. A pine needle. I shuffled over toward it. The pine needle was close to the ground, but there was still plenty of room for me beneath it. <Hey! Find a pine needle or something that crosses the line. I think maybe there's no force field directly beneath them.>

<Ah,> Ax agreed. <The pine needle may cast a shadow in the force field.>

<Ax,> I said, <Are you saying that physical objects block this force field?>

<That would seem to be the case. It is an old design, but adequate for an installation such as this.>

<So we could've gone in as some kind of burrowing animal? We didn't even need to be termites?!>

<Apparently not.>

Nothing to be done about it now. I reached up for the pine needle with my antennae and felt my way along beneath it. I could feel the tingly edges of the force field on either side of me. But the pine needle did cast a sort of shadow. And within that shadow, I could squeeze through.

<I'm through!> I said. At the same time, I became aware that the vague, far-off "voice" I'd heard calling to me was much stronger.

For a weird moment I actually thought it was my mother's voice. And I wanted to go toward it.

I moved my six legs and headed across the landscape of dirt boulders. I was sure where I was going now. I could hear the voice in my head. I could hear the call. My termite body seemed to be moving on its own. It was like I was a passenger in a car that someone else was driving.

<Is everyone through?> I asked.

<Yes,> Rachel said. She sounded distracted to me. Like she was listening to someone else and didn't want me interrupting. But that was okay, because I didn't really want to talk to her, either.

I quickly covered the ground to the building. I didn't see that it was the building, you understand. I just knew. And the terrible thing is, I never even paused to wonder how I knew.

<What are we…> Marco's voice. He didn't finish his thought. I didn't care.

<Guys?> Rachel asked. <Um…>

The opening was just ahead. I knew it was there. I knew that other soldier termites would be guarding the entrance.

I felt no fear. I was in the safest possible place. I was home.

I clambered up from the dirt into the tunnel opening. Familiar smells. Smells I knew. Home. Home. My place. Where I was from, and where I belonged. I smelled the other soldiers with my antennae. They touched me with their antennae, as I did to them.

We were of the colony.

 _The_ colony.


	11. Chapter 11

I raced swiftly down the tunnel. It headed upward at a sharp angle, but the angle meant little to me. I weighed practically nothing. A worker was ahead of me. It extruded a pellet of digested cellulose. Wood pulp. I quickly gobbled it up.

Within the wood pulp food there were messages. Hormones passing through the colony, containing information. Vague orders. Indistinct yet powerful instructions.

I was now caught up in a rush of workers off to obey the voiceless voice in their heads. Some were off to chew a new tunnel. Others were off to the egg chamber to rotate the eggs.

And I had my orders, too.

I raced along tunnels lined with chewed and digested wood pulp. Tunnels cut through the dried wood that supported the building. I felt side tunnels open on one side, then the next. A tunnel above. Air flowed faint but fresh, creating a tiny breeze.

There was no light. None. But it didn't matter because I was blind. I was blind, but I was not lost.

 _What am I doing?_ an alien voice asked.

I ignored it. It was important not to let alien instincts like that have free reign, or I could lose sight of the mission. But I had a lot of practice at controlling such instincts.

 _NO!_ the voice cried. It was weirdly easy to control, like a morph I'd done dozens of times before, but confusing. I didn't really understand it, or care what it had to say. I put it out of my mind and focused on what was important.

I went to the tunnel above. I had to. _NO! Let me go! Let me go!_

Down the black tunnels. Over and through the packed rush-hour streams of workers. To the center. To the core. To the heart. _Help me! Help me!_ the voice screamed.

It was kinda weird to have a voice in my head like that. I really didn't have time to muse on it; I had a job to do. But still, normally animal instincts are more... conceptual, more like urges. Not that many animals had language with proper words, as far as I was aware. I certainly didn't need words. I had the smells in the air, my sisters around me, the messages in wood pulp, which transferred information on a much more basic, reliable level. Verbal language was for dolphins and humans and whales and, in some weird mental way, mouthless andalites.

_No! No! Not this! Let me go!_

I ignored the silly human voice and kept...

Human... wait...

Me. My voice.

The faint, failing voice of the human named Cassie.

Me!

Ahhhhhhhhh!

Suddenly, I was Cassie again. I knew my name. I knew who I was. But it no longer mattered. The termite body was out of my control. A stronger will than mine was guiding it.

I _knew_ this would happen. I knew this exact thing would happen.

The termite suddenly emerged into a vast, open space. A space that in reality was no more than two or three inches across. And yet it felt like an auditorium to me.

Suddenly, I knew the source of the force who had brushed my human mind aside.

She was vast. Huge beyond belief. At one end I sensed the termite head and useless, waving termite arms. From that small head and body there extended a monstrous, pulsating sack. As big as a blimp. At the far end was a double row of sticky, slimy eggs, to be picked up and carried away by worker termites.

The queen. I was in the chamber of the termite queen.

 _The_ queen!

People sometimes say that for eusocial insects, the queen is 'in charge', and controls the nest. That's certainly one way of looking at it, but I don't think she had any more autonomy than I did at that moment. The queen is more like the nexus, the core of the nest. The nest ran on a sort of autopilot, each of us one part of a net of information and activity, each of us like a cell in a body. The queen's power was in the fact that she was the least disposable member of the nest. There could always be more workers, more soldiers... so long as there was a queen.

To my little termite body, protecting the queen was the most important goal. And the termite instincts could not be resisted. There was nothing to grab at, or too much to grab at; I was as helpless to control the insect's methodical movements as I would be controlling the panic response of a rat.

My job was to protect the egg-carrying worker termites. My sisters. I set to the task.

But I had a bigger mission, a more important mission. We needed to get the information we needed and get out. Jake was in immediate danger, we didn't have time to waste. We needed to save the forest, to save the world, to save my father. That was how I needed to protect my sisters – by preventing their food source from being wiped out and their home destroyed by loggers. I tried to resist motoring forward. It was like trying to resist laughing when being tickled. I kept moving forward.

The others; I needed the others. They would know what to do.

<Rachel? Marco? Ax?>

No response.

Of course there wouldn't be; why would their termite minds listen to some meaningless human voice? How had I found myself again? Because it didn't make sense, that was how. I'd puzzled out the sense, and remembered. Fine. But how did that help them?

<Rachel. You have to fight, Rachel. Are you going to let some stupid bug control you? Your friends are in danger!>

Suddenly, Rachel's voice in my head. <Aaaaaaargh!>

<Are you ok?>

<No! No I'm not! What is this morph?! How can this tiny little bug be so hard to handle?!>

<Yeah, it's a bit like that. Ax. Ax, we have to fight yeerks. Wake up.> I waited for a response. Silence. <Ax. Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, something is controlling you. Don't listen to the queen. Your Prince needs you to snap out of it, Ax. You can't let anyone else control your body!>

<I... uh...>

<You have standing orders from your Prince, _aristh_. We don't have time for this. >

<Ah! Ah! These...> Ax sounded panicked. <These creatures have no self! They...>

<Can you move?>

<No... no, somebody else is controlling me...>

<It's the queen,> Rachel said grimly.

<The nest,> I corrected.

<Whatever.>

<We need to bring Marco out of it,> I told them.

<How?> Rachel asked.

I thought. Marco had never been easy for me to read. Nor was he somebody I knew all that well. <Marco. Marco, wake up.>

No response.

<Marco, we have a job to do. You've forgotten the mission. It's, um...> dammit, I needed something to reach him. Computer games? Sports? Comics? It's a pity I knew nothing about any of those things. They'd never struck me as life-or-death knowledge before.

<We cannot let the Purple Man win, Marco,> Ax said.

A moment passed. Then...

<What? No! No! Aaargh!>

<Who is the Purple Man?> I asked Ax privately.

<Marco has been showing me comic books,> he explained. <I am gathering data to determine whether the Daredevil could defeat Batman.>

<I see.> I fell in step behind two workers. Each was carrying one of the gooey, precious eggs. My job was to protect them. There might be enemies. We walked along the grotesque length of the queen. Toward her head.

If the other Animorphs had different jobs, we were going to get split up. Whatever we did, we needed to do fast.

<Okay,> Marco said, his mental voice shaky, <Ideas for getting out of here, anyone? Because I don't have all that much control right now.>

It was probably a good thing that Jake wasn't with us. His experience being a Controller would probably make the whole thing a lot worse for him.

We walked, and I kept on the lookout for ants. They were the enemy; they sometimes came to steal the eggs for food. It was unlikely that they would get to the queen's chamber without an alarm being raised, but it could happen.

<The queen!> Rachel said. <The only way… destroy the queen.>

No, my job was to protect the queen. My mother. From the ants. No, wait. Protect her from the yeerks. The yeerks were the bigger threat. To protect her from the yeerks, I needed to escape, I needed to disrupt the nest.

<We have to destroy the queen!>

Yes! Yes; create an attack, create confusion. We had to destroy the queen.

And I could do it. I was walking right past her. I could do it... if only I could control my body. I just needed to break through the instincts for one moment...

But my body wasn't my own. It belonged to the nest, and the nest was using it to protect my sisters. I could feel their hind legs with my fingers. I sensed the queen beside us as we plodded along. The queen's head was half an inch to my right. Less. I don't know how I sensed her, blind as I was. Probably smell. Or sound. Maybe my termite brain just knew the exact size of a termite queen's chamber, and where she was within it. But I knew that she was there, tiny little head, beady eyes, waving feelers.

Eyes. Feelers. Like an ant!

I hate cognitive dissonance. Cognitive dissonance means there's something seriously inconsistent with your worldview. It means that there's a serious mistake that needs to be fixed. I spent a lot of my time trying to find it in my own mind and violently uproot it. Being in that tunnel, the powerful instincts conflicting with my tiny, pointless little human mind and tangling my thoughts until I didn't know what was human-Cassie and what was the termite, was one of the most uncomfortable things I'd ever felt.

But it was a weapon, also.

One chance... focus... focus... I had to trick the termite mind. I had to draw on every ounce of my strength. Everything depended on my ability to fool a tiny social insect. If I failed, I would live out the rest of my life as a mindless slave of the termite nest.

Now! Do it now!

 _Ant! Ant!_ I screamed the word in my own head. _Ant! Destroy! Destroy! Destroy the ant!_

I moved towards the queen. Stopped.

No, towards the _ant_. I moved towards the ant. Clambered over the workers whose job it was to tend the queen. They were in danger. My job was to protect them. To protect the queen's chamber. To kill the ant.

 _Ant! Ant!_ Other soldiers became agitated at my alarm signals. But they were too far away. I was the first responder. I would get into battle first.

I scampered over the queen's body, to the ant's head. I felt my antennae touch it. I opened my massive pincer jaws...

Termites ran around insanely. They were racing, out of control, lost, confused. For a moment I did the same. The queen was gone. What now? No queen. No nexus. I felt the panic. It was the moment, the perfect moment to wrest control, to take advantage of the termite mind's confusion, to run for... what was our mission again? Something to do with yeerks?

It was the moment to run. And I hesitated. I felt the confusion of my sisters wash over me. It meshed with mine. Out there, there were so many problems. There was no safety. But the nest still smelled like us. The nest wasn't safe, but it was still the safest place in the world.

Everything was so chaotic, so confusing. It was hard to resist becoming one of the lost, panicked mass.

<We're free! We're out! Cassie, where are you? Get out of there!> I heard a far-off voice cry. Was it Ax? Marco? Rachel?

<Demorph!> I cried with my last shred of control. I had a job to do. A job. I couldn't give up. I couldn't be distracted about the pain and confusion around me, about the unthinkable sin I'd just committed with my own pincers.

<No! Cassie, no!> a voice screamed in my head. <You're inside a piece of wood!>

<Demorph!> I screamed again. Human. I wanted to be human again. Let me be human! Let me out of this place. Out of this body. Back where I could _think_.

I grew. Walls pressed in around me. I filled the tunnel. I couldn't grow any more! Trapped! Pain. Nothing but pain! I was a swollen, vast termite. Larger than any queen.

I couldn't grow any more. And I couldn't stop. I was trying to become human again, to fit a human body into a space no bigger than the inside of a walnut.

Then . . . explosion!

The walls opened up. Splinters! Fresh air rushed across my hard termite skin. My head was free of the wood and growing. But my body was still trapped. Squeezing with terrible pain. I had eyes now. They could see, but only dimly. I was still tiny, and in the air above me a huge blade as long as a passenger jet slashed downward. The wood splintered again and my body was free. I grew and grew. Arms... legs... my own head.

I was on my knees on a wooden floor. Marco and Rachel stood over me. Ax had used his tail to slice open the wood. They had all escaped the colony. They had demorphed.

The floor was flat. The air was cold. The memory of the kill still weighed on me.

It was dark in the room, but there were glowing red-and-green indicator lights. And there was a computer monitor showing neat screen-saver triangles floating and reforming.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked. She bent down and put her hand on my shoulder.

I gave her a hug. Then, just as suddenly, I pushed her away. "Let me go! Don't touch me! Don't touch me! DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Rachel was on me in a flash. She clamped her hand over my mouth. Marco grabbed my ankles and held them still.

"Cassie!" Rachel hissed. "Shut up. We're inside the yeerk building. We're in a side room, but we can hear people in the next room!"

I was beyond caring. What was one more scene of chaos? I struggled and fought and tried to scream.

"Ax, whatever you can do with that computer, do it!" Marco whispered urgently. Rachel and Marco held me pinned against the floor. And slowly... very slowly... my bunched muscles relaxed. I stopped fighting. My heart slowed until it was merely quite fast instead of an unbearable, fluttering pressure in my chest. I started taking full breaths.

"Are you okay now?" Rachel asked.

Okay? I would never be okay again. But I nodded my head anyway. Rachel took her hand away from my mouth.

"It's over, Cassie," Marco said. "You saved us. It's over. And we have other problems now."

"I'm good," I lied. "I'm fine." I didn't have to be fine. I just had to hold it together until the end of the mission. Later, alone, I could try to untangle everything in my head without having to worry about my screaming or crying bringing trouble down on us.

<I have access,> Ax said. <Accessing. Um ... Marco or Rachel, I need a human to help me understand the meaning of what I am seeing here.>

Marco climbed up off the floor. Rachel stayed with me. She was stroking my hair, like my mom would have done if I'd had a nightmare.

It's not a side I see of Rachel very often. She's not the nurturing type. It was the third time she'd done such a thing for me in all the years I'd known her; once when I'd been hit by a boy as a small child, once at the construction site with Elfangor, and there, in that room. It was also the third time I'd desperately needed that sort of strength.

I heard sounds in the next room. Human voices. And hork-bajir, speaking their weird mix of their own native tongue and human speech they'd learned for duty on Earth.

"Some kind of commission," Marco mused, looking at the computer screen. "Three members. They vote on what happens to the forest. They decide if the logging can go forward."

<Dapsen Lumber Company,> Ax said. <That's what the yeerks call this logging company. Very funny. >

"What's funny?" Marco asked.

<Dapsen. It's a yeerkish word that means . . . well. Never mind what it means. It isn't polite.>

"Look at this document," Marco whispered. “‘Preliminary permission to examine feasibility of...' Hey. The yeerks don't have final permission to begin logging. There's this commission that still has to decide. Three people. One has already said yes. Probably a Controller. One has voted definitely no. There's one guy left. Some guy named Farrand. Yikes!"

"What yikes?" Rachel asked.

"Yikes, as in he's coming for a visit to check the scene," Marco said. "End of the week. Then he'll vote. If that guy votes yes, the yeerks are in business and we're in trouble."

"He'll vote yes," Rachel said darkly.

<I'm afraid that is true,> Ax agreed. <The yeerks will make him a Controller.>

"Not if we stop them," Marco said.

"One thing at a time. We need to get out of here," Rachel said. "And we're not going back out the way we came in."

No one argued with that.

<I am making a slight change in the programming that may let me access this computer from Marco's home computer. And I can temporarily shut down the defenses from this computer,> Ax said. <But there are still guards outside. And hork-bajir in the next room.>

"Yeah. We'll have to move fast," Rachel said. "Cassie, can you morph? Can you morph the wolf? I'll stay right beside you the whole time."

Could I morph? Could I invite another set of confusing instincts into my mind, right then? The very idea made me sick. But even in my quaking fear I knew anything was better than going back down into that termite colony.

Five minutes later, Ax turned off the outer defenses, and we ran from that building.

I guess the yeerks counted on their high-tech defenses too much. Without them, no one even shouted an alarm. By sheer, dumb luck we raced between the paths of two Controller guards. No one yelled. No one fired a shot. We ran into the woods where Jake joined up with us.

No one said much as we headed away from the camp.


	12. Chapter 12

Rachel's parents thought she was spending the night at my place. Mine thought I was at Rachel's. Jake and Marco had each told their parents they'd be at each others'. It didn't really leave us anywhere to actually sleep safely.

But we'd planned for that. We'd already stashed sleeping bags and some basic camping gear in the little run-down shack where we'd taken Jake when he was a Controller. Jake paused in the doorway, muscles tense.

“I'm sorry,” I said quietly, coming up behind him. “We should've found somewhere else.”

“No,” he said. “It's okay.” He walked resolutely forward. I don't think Marco or Rachel saw the tension in his shoulders. They were too busy sneaking glances at me.

The memory of pain thundered in my head as I glanced at the old table in the shack. I ran my fingers over the edge. My bloodstains were still visible. I forced myself not to cry, or shudder, or do anything that might make me look crazy. I crawled into my sleeping bag without speaking to anyone. I lay motionless until the breathing of my fellow Animorphs slowed and evened out in sleep. Then I snuck out.

I took a torch with me. Also the pencil and a few sheets of the notebook that had been left behind from Jake's yeerk thing. The paper had been under shelter, so it was still completely useable. But I needed space, and somewhere to organise my thoughts.

I walked until the shack was out of sight, ignoring the branches that tore my bare feet; they were easy to heal. I found a large chunk of rock to sit down on. I placed the torch so that it would illuminate the paper without me having to hold it. Then I took several deep breaths, and let the sobs wrack my body.

Knowledge is a powerful and precious thing. The more of it you have, the more accurate your worldview is, the better decisions you can make. The more you know, the better equipped you are to help yourself and others. The closer your worldview is to reality, the more you can live in the real world. It's impossible for anybody to know everything, but I've always believed that to deliberately try to remain ignorant of something because you don't like the answer, to deliberately reject what is most likely to be true and to lie to yourself, is wrong.

At least, I thought I believed that. Until I'd become an Animorph, there hadn’t been all that much I wanted desperately to forget.

Those termites. Those tiny, insignificant insects. I'd destroyed their entire world. Normally I wouldn't care; they were insects. But that loyalty, that pain, that confusion...

The termites' feelings were hard to describe in human terms. But they were real. They were valid. And as much as I wanted to forget, I wanted to run away, I wanted to dismiss them and move on... that would be wrong.

They were termites. They weren't as important as the fate of our planet. They felt. They lived. They cared. They were important.

I hate cognitive dissonance.

I'd stolen the forms of a lot of animals since becoming an Animorph, but I didn't usually slaughter their entire family when I did it. And the whole 'we're saving their species from the yeerks as well' argument didn't really fly in this case – the yeerks wouldn't wipe out trees, which humans need to live, so they wouldn't wipe out termites.

So what made human feelings more important than termite feelings? What made my family more important than theirs?

Sentience. Intelligence. Those were important. Sentient animals were more important, their feelings were more valid... that's what I'd always assumed, wasn't it? That was the discriminatory marker I'd always used. Humans were very intelligent. Dolphins were very intelligent. Whales and elephants were very intelligent. That's why they were important. Most mammals and birds were somewhat intelligent, and deserving of respect. Insects and worms weren't intelligent. They didn't matter.

The thoughts of a naïve kid who had never been in the termite tunnels.                                               

A termite wasn't intelligent. But a nest of termites... it thought, it behaved strategically, in ways that didn't really make sense to a human brain. It never really occurred to me until that moment that when we said 'intelligent', what we meant was 'more like a human'. Whales were intelligent for having language, like humans. Crows were intelligent because they could use simple tools, like humans. Termites didn't behave like humans, so they didn't count. Why were we the standard? Why were we the example of what a species needed to be in order to deserve protection and respect?

Because we made the decisions, that was why. We had the power.

For all the posturing about respect and preservation and compassion, did all our morals... all my morals... really just boil down to a more complicated version of 'might makes right'?

I noted my thoughts on the paper as I went. Normally, when people have troubling thoughts in the middle of the night after a horrible experience, they put them out of their mind when they go back to sleep. But I couldn't dismiss this. I couldn't forget it. Acknowledging that you're wrong, or confused, or lost in information, is the first step to becoming right.

 _We have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night_. Move through the darkness. Move through the unpleasantness. It's the only way to find truth, and even painful truths that you want to forget are still truths.

Of course, the whole 'sentience is important' line was ridiculous even if you ignored the arbitrary humanity of the standard, because nobody actually followed it. Octopi were more intelligent than kittens, but kittens were more loved and protected. Human babies weren't sentient, and they deserved every bit of our love and protection. And yeerks... yeerks were a sentient plague. Their sentience didn't stop them from being interstellar smallpox.

It seemed that the standard really was whatever humans could identify with the most. Whatever was cute, whatever was smart, whatever pleased us.

I wasn't sure that was a world I wanted to live in.


	13. Chapter 13

I did eventually get some sleep. Probably less than I should have. But I was getting used to operating on very little sleep. I had nightmares. They were relaxing, in a way. Just fear and desperation, with no tricky moral questions.

I woke up early, and flew home. Without really thinking about it, I went into the barn to the refrigerator we use to store perishable food for the animals. I took out a frozen grasshopper and stuck it under my glove sleeve. And then I headed toward the edge of the forest.

<Hey, Cassie,> a thought-speak voice said as I crunched noisily through the woods. <What's going on?>

I looked up and saw Tobias go skimming by. He flared, turned on a dime, and landed on a branch. He dug his ripping talons into the soft bark.

"Not much," I said.

<I heard it was pretty bad last night. >

"Yeah? Who did you talk to?"

<Ax. Who else? He was definitely weirded out by the whole thing. >

I stopped walking. 'Weirded out'? That didn't sound like Ax. "Who else did you talk to?"

<Maybe Marco,> he said.

"And Marco told you I went nuts, right?"

<Actually, the word he used was "insane." Also "Looney Tunes." And "wacko." But he meant it all in the nicest possible way. >

I laughed bitterly. "Well, I guess I did go a bit wacko," I said.

<Welcome to the club,> Tobias said. <None of us is going to come through all this completely normal. You know that. Too much fear. >

"Well, I'm pretty sick of it," I said. "I had to destroy the termite queen. I know, she was just a bug. But you know, who am I to decide that it's okay to kill one animal and not another? Here I am, the big Earth Mother, tree-hugger, animal-lover, as Marco would say, and when it gets down to it, I'm just like …"

<Just like me?> Tobias asked.

"Just like any predator," I said lamely.

<You feel bad because you had to kill the queen in order to survive. >

"I shouldn't have been there. It's their world, not mine. Those little tunnels in a rotten piece of wood -- that's their whole universe. I invaded it. And when they got in my way, I reacted. Who does that remind you of?"

<Look, you are not a yeerk, and termites are not human beings,> Tobias said. <There's no comparison.>

There are handy key phrases that people tend to rely on when lying to themselves. One of them is 'there's no comparison' or 'you can't compare me to that', said without justification. But I didn't bother arguing.

"Look, I have to morph. There's something I need to do."

<What?>

I sighed. "It's something stupid, all right? There's this mother skunk we have who's injured. She has a litter of kits who are going to die. I think I know where they are, more or less, but I can't get there walking like a human."

For a moment Tobias said nothing. <Skunk kits? Near the edge of the yeerk logging compound?>

"Yes."

<I can show you where they are. >

For a frozen moment of time I refused to understand what he'd just said. I didn't want to think of why Tobias . . . why a red-tailed hawk would know the exact location of a litter of skunk babies.

I took a couple of deep breaths. I tried to keep my voice level. "Are they still alive?"

<There are four still alive,> Tobias said.

I felt an emotion I don't feel very often. I felt it boiling up inside me. I glared furiously at him. At the ripping talons. At the nastily curved beak.

I could picture the scene in my mind. The way he would have swooped down, raked those talons forward, snatched the defenceless kit off the ground and...

I looked away. I was shaking. I laced my fingers together, just to stop them from trembling.

"I'm going to save what's left of them," I said. My voice didn't sound like my voice.

<I'll help you,> Tobias said.

I just nodded, once, not trusting myself to reply.


	14. Chapter 14

I used my osprey morph and flew behind Tobias as he led me directly to the spot I had seen the night before. I carried the frozen grasshopper in my talons. I didn't ask Tobias any questions, and he didn't say anything.

He pointed out the almost-invisible entrance to the skunks' lair. And then he flew away. I knew he'd go to Jake and tell him what I was doing. And I knew that I had hurt Tobias by treating him so coldly.

But, to tell you the truth, I didn't care right then. I just wanted to find those baby skunks. I don't know why, but somehow in my mind those baby skunks had become very important.

I was going to use my powers, the powers I’d used to fight and hurt and kill, to nurture and protect. To fix just a little of the damage we’d caused.

When Tobias was out of sight, I began to morph. It wasn't a difficult morph. I kept eyes and ears and a mouth all the way through the change. Not like becoming a bug.

There was the now-familiar sensation of shrinking. And there was the surprise of having a huge, bushy tail growing from the base of my spine. But I had morphed a rat before. This was pretty close.

But the fur was a new experience. Oh, I'd grown fur before, but never any so long and luxurious and dramatic. This was a regular fur coat, so to speak. Mostly black, but with an impressive swipe of white down my back and into my tail.

The senses of the skunk were nothing special. The hearing was a little better than human, maybe. The sense of smell was good. The sight not as good as my own human vision. And the skunk's body was not swift or strong. I shuffled and sort of waddled when I tried to walk. When I tried to run I just ended up waddling a little more. My front paws could grasp and hold things, but they were far inferior to my own human hands.

It was the skunk's mind and instincts that seemed strangest of all. I've been inside minds that were all fear, or all hunger. Minds that were keyed up, like they lived on adrenaline. But this mind, this package of instincts, was so ... gentle. So unafraid. Not cocky and swaggering like a big cat, just unafraid.

I was an animal no bigger than a house cat. No sharp teeth or talons. And yet just about nothing in the forest messed with me. I felt the gentleness of absolute confidence.

I could hear the mewing sounds of the skunk kits within the burrow. I waddled over to the opening and pushed my head inside. It was dark, but I could make out four of them. Tiny, helpless little things. No longer infants, but not yet able to defend themselves or hunt like adult skunks.

The kits were happy to see me. And something in the mind of the skunk was relieved and joyful to see them.

 _Like the termites, their little community, safe protecting and caring for each other..._ I pushed the thought away.

I retrieved the frozen grasshopper, now completely thawed. I crawled inside that little hole in the dirt. I curled around, and the kits nuzzled up against me. I fed them the grasshopper.

I knew I only had two hours in morph. But even though I had just gotten up a few hours earlier, I suddenly felt sleepy. The meal was done. The kits wouldn't starve. And I was sleepy and very, very peaceful.

WHUMP!

"Hey! Hey! Are you in there? Cassie!"

I woke up. Where was I? It was dark. Was I in my bedroom? Was I ... oh, no, was I in the termite colony?!

The four kits still slept, curled up against me. I was in the skunks' den.

<What?> I said.

"It's me, Jake, Cassie, get out of there. Now! You've been in morph for almost two hours!"

That woke me up all the way. I shot out of the burrow and instantly began to demorph.

Jake was standing there with Marco. Tobias was in the tree overhead.

I have seen Jake mad before. But I'd never seen him this mad. "What did you think you were doing?!" he yelled, without even waiting for me to become human. "You were ten minutes away from spending the rest of your life as a skunk!"

<I fell asleep,> I said. My mouth wasn't formed yet.

"Are you out of your mind? What is the matter with you?" I'd never noticed that Jake has this vein that kind of pops out on his forehead when he's furious.

"Look, I'm sorry," I mumbled, as I finished demorphing.

He was a long way from forgiving me. "This is not why we have this ability. We are not trying to save every lost skunk in the world," Jake ranted. "We are an army. A small, weak, pathetic, outnumbered army. We have exactly six members. Tobias has already been trapped in morph. But he was trapped fighting the yeerks. I can't believe you would nearly get yourself trapped in morph over some skunks!"

Marco stepped in and put a hand on Jake's shoulder and kind of pulled him back. "Look, it's okay, Jake. She's okay."

"Thanks to Tobias," Jake snapped. "No thanks to her."

I didn't know what to say. I was too shocked. And to be honest, I was pretty horrified by what I'd almost done.

And angry. Not at myself. At Jake.

“Don't you dare yell at me,” I said, surprised at the coldness in my own voice. But my own parents didn't yell at me, why should I let Jake?

“If you'd listen – ”

“No. That's enough. I do listen. But you don't listen to me. None of you do. I do have to save the skunks. It's important.”

“As important as saving our species from alien invasion?”

I shrugged. "The strong eat the weak," I said. "It's part of nature. Humans always win, other animals always lose. Maybe it's our turn to lose."

Jake nodded. "This isn't about some race called humans. It's about people we know. People we see every day. My brother, Tom, is one of them. So why don't you go tell Tom it's okay that he's a slave of the yeerks because it's our turn to get hammered?"

“Why don't you go tell the termites I slaughtered last night and the starving babies that it's okay for them to die horribly because we're trying to save some primate from a brain parasite?” I shot back, surprised at the venom in my own voice.

Jake looked like I'd slapped him. He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to reconsider, and turned to walk away.

Part of me wanted to watch him leave. Then I could go home and be angry by myself. But I knew, really, that part of the reason I was so angry was that he was right. It had been a stupid risk. And I needed him to understand. Even if I had to do this alone – and I was prepared to do it alone – I needed to, well, not shut him out first.

"Jake?" I called.

He stopped.

"Jake? Um ... my dad will have the skunk mother ready to be returned here in a day or so. I'm not going to just abandon these kits."

He put his hands on his hips and glared at me. "You can't stay in morph that long, and you know it."

"I know. But I have to make sure no predators come around. I have to get them food. And I have to morph at least some of the time, so they can imprint on their mother here in the wild. Look ... I know it seems stupid to you and Marco and probably everyone. But I have to do this."

<I'll watch them,> Tobias said. I'd almost forgotten that he was there.

"Tobias will keep watch. We'll work something out," Jake said. "We'll save the lousy skunks. After all, it's not like we have anything else to do. Aside from saving the world."

"Thanks, Jake," I said. "And… sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I'll be okay now, I think."

He smiled his slow smile. "I'll be okay, too, Cassie. As long as you're around.”

From a little ways off to our left I heard Marco make a loud gagging noise. It made me laugh. I must have been feeling better, to be able to laugh.


	15. Chapter 15

“Well, this is more than slightly insane," Marco said. It was later that same day, Sunday evening. We were all gathered around the skunks' den. "We're going to raise little, stinky skunk babies?"

"What's so insane about that?" Rachel asked sharply. Good old Rachel. She thought it was ridiculous, too. But she's my best friend, and always backs me up.

"They're skunks," Marco said, looking from Rachel to Jake to Ax, like he was the only normal person in a mental ward.

"They're cute," Rachel said, glaring at Marco and generally looking like a girl who never used the word 'cute.'

"Ah. I see. "Cute." Well that certainly explains everything."

Jake cut in. "Cassie can't take them to the clinic or they may get used to humans. They're young. They'll imprint. So we are taking care of these . . . these skunks . . . until mommy skunk can come back from the hospital."

<Are skunks a sacred animal to humans?> Ax asked.

"All animals are sacred to Cassie," Marco said. "She's Doctor Doolittle and that animal guy who comes on Letterman all rolled into one."

<But you eat some animals,> Ax pointed out. <Cows, pigs, sheep, dogs.>

"We don't eat dogs!" I said.

<In some countries they do. I read it in the World Almanac.>

"Well, we don't eat dogs in this country," Rachel said.

<Do you eat cats?>

"Um . . . excuse me?" Jake interrupted. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was obviously getting a headache. I could understand why. "Look, here's the deal: We are about three hundred yards from the edge of the yeerk logging compound. They have sensors, they have guards. Tobias is up top keeping an eye out, so we're safe for now. But we can't get careless. Cassie, tell them what we want to do."

"Okay, while we're in school tomorrow and the next day, Ax and Tobias will protect the den. Ax will morph the mother skunk from time to time. Tobias will patrol from above. I'll bring Tobias frozen food so he doesn't have to hunt during that time." Ideally, I'd like to bring Tobias frozen food all the time. It wouldn't really be noticed missing and it would save him a lot of time and risk in his day-to-day schedule. But I knew his pride wouldn't allow it.

"Oooh, Lean Cuisine Frozen Mouse entrees," Marco teased.

<I heard that,> Tobias said from somewhere up above the treetops.

"I know," Marco said, grinning smugly.

"Then, after school and through the night, the rest of us will work shifts. I'll do most of the skunk morphing, but in between times we'll have to have Jake and Rachel and Marco to help keep up a patrol."

Marco held up his hand.

"Yes, Marco?" I asked.

"Do we get some 'Save the Skunks' T-shirts and bumper stickers?"

"No one has to do this," I said. "Look... I know it seems stupid."

"Nah, it's not stupid," Marco said. "Let's see, I'm behind in my homework. My dad thinks I've joined a gang because I'm never around. I don't sleep much because every time I try I'm suddenly a termite again and I wake up screaming. I never get to just sit around and watch TV. And, in my spare time, I have to help figure out how we're going to keep the yeerks from turning some guy named Farrand into a Controller so they can wipe out the forest and hunt down the Bird-boy and the universe's only almanac-reading andalite. I mean, I knew the middle-school years would be tough, but this is a little much."

Jake gave Marco a long, skeptical look. "So, in other words, you'll be glad to help."

For once, it was Jake who made everyone laugh. Even Marco.

Marco shrugged. "You know, actually it's kind of a relief finding out Cassie is crazy. We know Rachel's nuts. We know I'm crazy. Cassie's been the only sane one for so long. Welcome to the loony bin, Cassie. Save the skunks! Hug the trees! Let dogs vote!"

The others all laughed. I laughed a little, too. Marco always made fun of my being an environmentalist. Usually it was okay, because I knew what I believed in.

But now his humor cut just a little deeper.

I wasn't saving the whales or the panda or the spotted owl. I was saving a handful of skunks. There were plenty of skunks in the world. They weren't exactly endangered. It all went back to the termite queen. A bug. I had killed a bug, and that had shaken my deepest faith.

Maybe Marco was right. Maybe I was crazy.

While Tobias kept watch, I took the others to the barn to acquire the skunk. Then Jake and I headed back out for a shift of skunk sitting. We walked together, human, through the forest. We'd have to morph eventually, but neither of us was in a hurry.

“I'm sorry I got all... y'know,” I said awkwardly.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you.”

“Do you ever think that a lot of this Animorphs gig is more about trying to stop each other going crazy than fighting aliens?”

“It does seem that way sometimes.”

Before I had time to reconsider, I added, “I think my father's a Controller.”

“Oh. I'm sorry, Cassie.”

“It was bound to happen eventually. We'll free him. And Tom.”

“Yeah. We will.”

I felt Jake's arm encircle my shoulders as we walked.

_I felt his hand in my hair, slamming my head down against the table once more, and I couldn't think…_

“Cassie?” I looked up. Jake had pulled himself away from me as if his arm was made of red-hot metal. I'd stopped walking, I realised. I'd frozen.

“I'm fine!” I said. “It's fine. It's... I just got a bit creeped out by the mission.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“It's fine! Let's... let's morph, okay?”

“Yeah. Good idea.”

Morphing gave me a good excuse to look away and focus on the osprey.


	16. Chapter 16

Our skunk-nurturing shift went off without a problem. We watched the kits. I morphed to be with them for awhile and tried not to rely too much on the comfort their presence gave my skunk brain. We went home.

I helped my father do the rounds in the barn. Pretending things were normal was part of maintaining my cover, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to do it. Just for a couple of hours.

“We'll be able to release your skunk in a few days,” Dad said as he portioned out meat.

“That's good,” I replied. We could keep the babies alive for a few days. “Um, Dad?”

“Hmm?”

I swallowed nervously. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, sweetie.”

Sweetie. I was ninety per cent sure an alien slug was saying that, pulling memories out of my father's head, pretending to bond with me while he watched helplessly. But I needed advice from my Dad. And if there was a yeerk in his head, it had his memories. It was still capable of giving that advice.

“The national forest.”

“What about it?”

“There used to be more forest, didn't there? All over here, before we built cities. And these animals... they're just a tiny portion of the animals that are hurt every day by cars, or poison, or power lines. I mean, humanity does so much damage, causes so much pain. Can we really just portion off a bit of the world and say 'it’s okay, because we left this bit alone'?”

“Ah. Yes, I knew this would come eventually.”

“Knew what would come? That I'd see that our whole species is an... an infection? That of all the invasive species on this continent, we've done the most damage? That maybe _Homo sapiens_ should never have left Africa?”

“Yes, that.” He smiled. “Those sorts of questions mean you're growing up.

“You make a good point, Cassie. We cut down the trees to make room for our crops. We brought cats and dogs and cattle, which caused untold damage on their own. But I guess the real question is this – do those cats and dogs not have a right to live comfortably? Don't you and I have a right to live comfortably?

“We are where we are. All we can work with is what we have now. And what we have now is a species that spread rapidly across the globe, learned about its planet and its origins, even went into space, co-existing with everything else. We can only try to protect the 'everything else' as we advance.”

“With a small patch of safe land and a barn full of healing animals? It's a drop in the ocean.”

“Oceans are made of drops. We deal with what is, Cassie, and with what’s in front of us. The world is full of cruel people and cruel events. But does the fact that other skunks die make the life of this little skunk any less valuable? Does deforestation in other areas make our forest any less important?”

“I... I guess not. Thanks, Dad.”

“No problem, sweetie.” He finished portioning out the meat. “When you're done here, wash up for dinner, okay?” he called as he left the shed.

“Okay. I love you,” I added quietly. But I don't know if he heard me.


	17. Chapter 17

Over the next two days, we protected and nurtured a foursome of baby skunks. And as impossible as it seems, it worked. More or less.

Maybe I'm kidding myself, but I think the others started enjoying it, too. Typically, it was Marco who decided, after his first shift guarding the skunks, that the kits needed names.

"Joey, Johnny, Marky, and C.J.," he announced, like it was obvious. "The Ramones. The godfathers of punk rock. They would be honored. The one with the white stripe that kind of goes really wide? That's Joey. Now, Johnny …"

At first, I was the only one to morph the skunk mother. Then Ax did it. Then the others, one by one. I almost felt jealous.

Right after school three days later, I went to the skunk burrow and found Tobias flying cover above the burrow.

<Hi, Cassie.>

"How's it going, Tobias?"

<Well, we had a little excitement. A hungry badger stopped by to check things out. But I chased him off. >

"So the kits are all right?"

<There are still four of them, if that's what you mean,> Tobias answered. <But they won't stay inside. They keep coming out and looking around. Especially Marky. This isn't good. Especially if they do it at night. >

I morphed into the skunk mother and crawled inside the den. Tobias was right -- the kits were restless. They were growing fast, and they instinctively wanted to go out into the great big world beyond the burrow.

<I think I'm going to take them for a walk,> I told Tobias.

<Is that a good idea?>

<Sure. Why not? You should take a break. Stretch your wings. >

Tobias was relieved to have an excuse to take off. But as soon as he was gone I started to have doubts about my brilliant idea of taking the kits out for a stroll. How could I keep track of them? What if they wandered off? But then, while I was debating, Marky made a wild dash outside and I had to scamper to catch up to him. As soon as I appeared, though, the kit went meekly to stand behind me. One by one, the other three babies came out. And to my amazement, they lined up like obedient first-graders.

<Okay,> I said, although of course the kits couldn't understand me. <Let's take a walk.> I waddled slowly away, took about ten steps, then turned to look back over my shoulder. The four of them were all lined up behind me. I was their mother, as far as they knew. And they were programmed to follow their mother. I waddled off, feeling a little strange but happy.

We walked that way for half an hour. We paused to sniff things from time to time. Various animal scents, mostly. And then, I realized something. We weren't supposed to just be going for a stroll. The kits were hungry. I was their mother. And it was my job to provide for them. If I didn't teach them to catch bugs, they wouldn't survive. Skunks eat some plants, but they also eat crickets and mantises and grass hoppers and even shrews and mice. I stopped walking and looked back at "my" kits. Four almost identical little balls of black-and-white fuzz. Four curious little faces watching me. Waiting to see what I was doing. Eager to learn.

I'd been feeding them thawed frozen grasshoppers and thawed mice I'd brought from the clinic. Just as I'd been giving Tobias food since he was too busy to hunt properly. But these skunk kits couldn't be fed by humans all their lives. Suddenly ... a crashing sound! Something rushing through the woods, careless, wild, noisy. And coming right toward us!

I started to lead the kits back to the burrow, but the noise was getting closer. It was coming too quick! I tried to smell what it was, but the breeze was blowing the wrong way. Then . . . ROWR! ROWR! ROWROWROWR! A dog!

A wolf would have known better. A wolf would have seen the black-and-white fur and decided he had an appointment somewhere else. A bear would have known. Just about any wild animal knew better than to annoy an adult skunk.

But this big happy dog was not wild. He lived with humans. He knew absolutely nothing about skunks.

Without even thinking, I turned my back to the dog. I raised my tail in warning.

The dog kept coming. Drool was dribbling from one side of his mouth, and his tongue was hanging out the other side, and he was having about as good a time as a dog could have. He was in the woods, and he had a bunch of little black animals to play with.

The kits were still lined up. They were watching me intently. It almost made me want to laugh -- if I could have. It was a big moment for them -- they were about to learn why no sensible animal picked on adult skunks.

I had no experience in spraying. But the skunk mind within my own knew exactly what it was it had to do.

I aimed.

I looked over my shoulder to judge the distance.

I targeted that dog's face, and I fired.

Just at the instant when I fired, I had the strange sensation that I knew this dog from somewhere. But it was too late by then. Way too late.

At a distance of ten feet, the spray hit with the accuracy of a laser-guided smart missile.

ROWR? ROWR?

The dog stopped dead in his tracks. The look in his eyes was sheer horror. How could it be? How could the little black-and-white creature have done this to him? And then, I heard something that made me feel really bad.

"Homer? What's the matter, boy?" Jake asked. "Oh. Ohhhhh, Homer. I told you not to follow me into the woods."

"Rrrreww rrrreeewww rrreeewww," Homer whined pitifully.

Jake, Marco, Rachel, and Ax all came up at a run. Marco was already laughing.

"You hosed Homer!" Marco giggled. "Cassie sprayed Homer! Wait, that is Cassie, right?"

I seriously considered pretending to be some other skunk.

<Sorry, Jake,> I said.

"Man, that is nasty," Rachel commented. "No offense, Cassie. But I mean . . . gag! Oh. Ugh."

<Fascinating,> Ax said. <That is possibly the worst thing I have ever smelled. >

Homer tried to nuzzle up to Jake, but as much as Jake loves his dog, he was not going for it. "I don't think so, big guy. I told you to stay home. But oh no, Homer, you had to come with me. Now, go home. HOME, boy!"

Homer decided home might be a better place than the forest, after all. He trotted off, tail between his legs.

<I believe the smell is causing me to become deranged,> Ax said calmly. <I may have to run away in panic.>

"Take me with you," Marco muttered.

"Well, this is perfect," Jake said. "Wonderful. My parents are going to so appreciate it when Homer gets back to the house reeking of skunk. Man, let's move away from this spot, okay? I mean, jeez, that's just awful."

We moved away from the scene of the stink, back toward the den. I led the kits inside, where they seemed happy to curl up and sleep. It had been an exciting outing for them.

I went back outside and demorphed. "Homer will be okay if you bathe him in tomato juice and leave him outside for a few days," I said to Jake. "Sorry."

"Not as sorry as Homer is," Jake said. "But we have bigger problems. Look, Cassie, we came to find you and Tobias. That guy Farrand? Ax and Marco tapped into the yeerk computer at the logging camp."

"Yeah," Marco grinned. "The Ax-man knows his way around computers."

"Yeah, well, we found something out. Farrand isn't arriving this weekend. He's coming early. He's coming to cast the final vote on the logging in this forest. In fact, he'll be here in about an hour. We have an hour to make plans and get ready," Jake said. "One hour. Less, since we have to get into position.”

"Okay, what do we know?" Marco asked. "We know this Farrand guy is the one who makes the final decision on the yeerks going forward. We know he's not a Controller or he would have already voted to let the logging begin."

"We know the yeerks won't leave it to chance," Rachel said. "He's coming here to the site. They'll be ready to do an involuntary infestation. They have some slug sitting in a vat right now, waiting to crawl in the man's ear."

<They may just try to persuade this human,> Ax suggested. <They prefer voluntary infestations. And if they can get this human to give them his vote, they may simply let him go. >

"So what do we do, attack?" Rachel asked. "Just storm in and mess everything up?"

<Hey. Shhh,> Tobias said.

"What?" Rachel asked him.

<Don't you guys hear that? Even human ears should hear that. >

We all listened very intently. Then it came, carried on the breeze -- the sound of diesel engines.

"Probably just our friends the yeerks, moving their heavy equipment around. Putting it in nice, neat rows for the commissioner," Jake said. But then he thought it over and added, "Tobias? You mind going up to take a look?"

Tobias flapped his wings and soared above the treetops and out of sight.

"Okay, back to business," Jake said. "One way or the other, this Farrand guy is the key. If he votes yes, the yeerks can log in this forest. If he votes no, they can't. Not without attracting way too much attention."

"Assuming they let Farrand live long enough to vote no," Rachel said.

"That's our job, then," I suggested. "We have to keep Farrand alive, and keep them from making him a Controller."

Everyone nodded.

"Too bad I have no idea how to do that," I admitted.

Just then, Tobias came rocketing down out of the sky. <They've already started!> he yelled as he shot past to land on a branch.

"Started what?" I asked.

<The yeerks. They've started cutting trees. And they are coming this way!>

"Well," Jake said. "I guess that settles the question of whether the yeerks are going to infest this guy."

"They don't care what this guy sees when he gets here," Rachel said. "They don't care about convincing him. This poor man already has a yeerk slug with his name on it."

<You wouldn't believe how fast those machines can rip through trees!> Tobias said, obviously shaken up. <They're cutting trees like a farmer cuts wheat. >

<And we have one of your hours to help this commissioner,> Ax said. Then, he focused his two stalk eyes on the skunk burrow. <The small ones are right in the path of the loggers, if Tobias is correct.>

I expected Marco to make some snide remark about how no one cared about the skunks at a time like this. But to my amazement he said, "Hey, no one messes with the skunks. Those skunks are under official Animorph protection." He winked at me and gave me a mocking clenched fist salute. "Save the skunks, Earth Sister!" I grinned, and returned the gesture.

"Yeah, these are our skunks," Rachel said. "No one messes with our skunks."

"Excuse me? Hello?" Jake interrupted. "A plan? A plan, please?"

"Well ..." I began.

"What?" Jake asked me.

I shrugged. "If Farrand is the key, we need to grab the key. Right? Chances are they'll have to turn the force field off in order to get him into the camp. That's when we get him away from the yeerks. No matter what it takes."

"Grab Farrand," Marco said. "Simple. Elegant. And yet, given the yeerk power in that compound of theirs, completely suicidal. I'm surprised at you, Cassie. Usually Rachel's the one to come up with a totally suicidal plan."

"You have a better idea?" Jake asked Marco.

"We could go home and watch TV."

"I'll take that as a no." Jake rubbed his hands together. "Okay, then. We snatch this Farrand guy as soon as he shows up. In the meantime, we have to slow down those tree-cutting machines."

Rachel grinned. "Cool."

I felt sick.


	18. Chapter 18

There was only one way for a person to reach the yeerk logging camp by car. They had to drive down the long, dirt road that the yeerks had cut through the forest.

Jake made some quick decisions. He, Marco, Rachel, and Ax took off, leaving me with Tobias.

I looked up ruefully at Tobias. "You and me, I guess."

<I'm always glad to have you along,> Tobias said.

I began to morph into an osprey. "Look, Tobias? This has been bothering me. And since... you know... I want to get this off my chest. I'm sorry I got mad at you over the skunk kit. You were just doing what you had to do," I said.

I could feel my bones thinning and hollowing out. Gray feathers began to paint their patterns on my arms.

<I could live off food you guys brought me,> Tobias said. <I don't have to hunt. >

"Okay, then why do you?" I asked, just before my mouth mutated into a beak.

<Because I'm not just a human. I'm also a hawk. Hawks hunt live prey. Would it be better if I let you do my killing for me? Is it more moral if I eat a frozen mouse you get from some supplier?>

Of course it wasn't. Tobias got it. That was why he was so on board with protecting the skunks. He understood. I kept talking anyway. Second opinions never hurt. <Look, Tobias, I know all about how nature works. I know about predators and prey. It's just... it's just confusing. I mean, where does right and wrong come into it?>

Snowy-white feathers were growing all down my front, replacing the fabric of my morphing suit. My feet were becoming pale gray talons.

<I don't know. I guess if I were running around killing animals I didn't intend to eat, that would be wrong. But hawks have a right to live, just as much as a mouse or a skunk.>

<I don't think the others get it. With the kits, I mean.>

<Can you blame them? I'm a predator and you're, well, you, but they don't need to think about this stuff.>

<We should all be thinking about this stuff, that's the point. We do untold damage fighting this war. And I know we have no choice. But that doesn't change the fact that we do that damage. Even if you want to argue that the end justifies the means, like Jake and Marco do, the end doesn't make the means go away. Most of the damage we do, we'll never repair. We'll never bring back the yeerk slaves we've killed or disabled. We'll never bring back the animals that are Draconed on suspicion of being us. We'll never bring back any amount of trees that the yeerks manage to destroy in this quest looking for us. But this is something we can do. We have to repair what damage we can, because if we become the sort of people who can leave collateral damage in our wake and not even care because we think it's less important than the war... I don't want to trust the fate of this planet to people like that. Not if I can help it.>

<I know, Cassie.>

<But why don't they?!>

<Have you tried saying to them what you just said to me?>

<They wouldn't listen. They never do.>

<Have you given them the chance to?>

My human eyes were giving way to the incredibly amazing hawk vision. There was some color distortion because osprey eyes were adapted for seeing through water. Nature designed them to see fish, even below the shimmering surface of a lake or river.

<Ready to fly?> Tobias asked.

I flapped my wings a couple of times.

<Let's go,> I said, trying to sound like Rachel.

Tobias flapped his wings, caught a headwind, and suddenly shot almost straight up. I opened my wings and contracted the tireless flying muscles. Flap, flap, flap, and I also caught the breeze. I flapped to get above the trees, then a stronger breeze came up and I soared high.

It's like stepping on a very fast escalator. Zoom! I flapped hard, wanting the sensation of speed.

Tobias was ahead of me, and as I flew, I watched him. I watched the incredibly subtle movements of his wings. He almost seemed to be able to move individual feathers. For him, the wind was not invisible. It was a road, as clear as if it was blacktop.

As I followed him, I sensed the osprey brain beneath my own, adjusting and reacting to the wind. My eyes saw every small detail. They marked each animal, each hole where an animal might be hiding. I saw a bright stream, and saw the shadows of fish flitting through the rocks. My osprey had been designed by nature for this, for flying high and finding prey. Just like Tobias. We flew up and up. The tops of trees were like some bumpy lawn beneath us. I could see all of the yeerk logging camp. And I could see the massive yellow machines that were slicing through the trees like hot knives through butter. Already there was an ugly scar of stumps. A scar that spread like some terrible disease, eating the forest away.

Tobias veered right, toward the long, winding road through the trees. I banked my wings and went after him.

The stream joined a small river, rushing and bubbling alongside the road. Through the water, through the foam and bubbles, I saw the schools of fish darting. And I could feel the osprey's brain considering the situation. Measuring the distances. Calculating the angles. Planning the way it would skim low over the surface of the water, then lower its ripping talons at just the perfect moment to strike. To snatch a fish right out of the water.

I knew that Tobias was making the same calculations as he flew over mice and rats and rabbits . . . and skunks.

Tobias and I were two superb, beautiful killers, riding the wind, while our prey cowered beneath us.

<There,> Tobias said. <A Jeep.>

I looked and saw the vehicle coming down the road. Then, with my amazingly acute hawk vision, I saw right through the windows, as though the glass were the surface of a stream.

<Three guys. One driving, and one beside him. There's one guy in the backseat, and he looks older.>

<Yep. And on the side of the Jeep it says Dapsen Lumber. My guess is the driver and the other guy are Controllers. The guy in the backseat is looking all around like he's very interested in what's going on. Has to be Farrand.>

<They'll reach the camp in a few minutes. As soon as we see how this Farrand guy reacts, we'll know if he's already been made into a Controller,> I said.

<How's that?>

<The yeerks have gone ahead with logging,> I explained. <If Farrand is still a true human, he'll be massively upset. If he's calm, he's already one of them. >

<Good point,> Tobias said.

<What do we do? I mean, if he's a Controller already?> I asked.

<I don't know. I guess we focus on attacking the logging operation itself. >

<Really? You know what we'd do if he were a nonhuman Controller?> I asked. <We'd go after him and whatever happened, happened. Right?>

<You mean, like a termite?> Tobias asked dryly.

<Yeah. That's exactly what I mean,> I said.

<Look, Cassie, you're human. _Homo sapiens_. Your job is to keep yourself and your species alive. That's all nature wants from you. That's the whole point of evolution – to survive.  > He sounded angry. I wasn't angry, but I was frustrated. More 'might makes right' talk. More misunderstanding and perversion of evolution.

We were following the Jeep, heading back toward the logging camp. It would happen in just a few minutes. In just a few minutes Farrand would see what was going on, and we would know what he truly was.

One of us, or one of them.

<Survive,> I said flatly.

<That's the law of nature. The number one law. And humans are part of nature.>

It was somewhat amusing how people thought of humans as alternately 'natural' and 'unnatural', depending on what they were trying to justify.

<Then so are the yeerks, and we're no better than them.>

<I guess we'll have to worry about that one later,> Tobias said. <Look.>

The Jeep pulled to a stop in front of the yeerk fortress.

Farrand flung open his door and jumped out. I could easily see him waving his arms. Even from where I was I could see the anger on his face.

Then from the building there came a man.

And yet... this man felt wrong. Even from up in the air, I felt a chill that seemed to emanate from him. A telepathic weapon, used to keep troops in line.

<Him,> Tobias said.

I knew instantly what Tobias meant.

<I only saw him once in a human morph, but it's him,> Tobias said.

Visser Three.

It shouldn't have surprised me that he would use his human morph. It made sense. And yet I felt a cold rage deep inside me at the sight. It wasn't logical, but I felt it just the same. He was a fake human. He was using human DNA and human form as part of his plan to enslave all of humanity.

<Visser Three,> I said to Tobias.

<Yeah,> he agreed. <He looks so normal. Except for the fact that he gives you the creeps.>

<I have a bad feeling about this,> I said. <I don't think they're going to wait long. I think they're going to take Farrand right away. >

Farrand was walking toward Visser Three, still waving his hands wildly toward the heavy machinery that was chewing through the trees. Visser Three was smiling. It was not a nice smile.

<Where are Jake and the others?> Tobias wondered.

<Oh, man,> I said. <This is going to happen real -- >

All of a sudden, Visser Three lashed out and slapped Farrand across the face. The commissioner staggered back. He held a hand to his cheek.

The two men from the Jeep rushed to grab Farrand's arms. Farrand was an older man. He was helpless.

<Cassie. Look. That's either Jake, or there is some other tiger loose in these woods!>

I looked toward the clearing. Now I could see it -- a huge, orange-striped tiger was racing toward Farrand. But he was too far away. It had all happened too suddenly. Jake wasn't in position. I didn't even know where the others were. Probably still morphing.

<It's up to us,> I said.

I adjusted my wings, aimed for Visser Three, and dove. Down, down, down. Faster and faster, till my wings were vibrating and my bones were rattling from the speed. The target, Visser Three's human head, grew larger. Larger. Larger!

I raked my talons forward, I flared my wings just enough to keep from overshooting, and I struck. I could feel my talons bite into his scalp. And then I was out of there, carried away by my own momentum.

"Aaarrrgghh!" the Visser yelled.

At the same instant, Tobias hit one of the guys from the Jeep. Tobias has more experience than I do. His aim is better. The guy he hit would be wearing an eyepatch for the rest of his life.

<Yeee hah!> Tobias cried.

Farrand broke free of his remaining captor and ran.

"Get him!" Visser Three yelled. "Full alert!"

The uninjured guard went after Farrand. He caught him easily and knocked him facedown in the dirt. I saw Jake closing in fast, a black-and-orange streak. Looking past him, I saw that there was a second battle out by the edge of the forest. Two wolves -- Rachel and Marco -- were on the Controllers operating the machines. The perimeter guards had come running, automatic weapons ready.

Suddenly, fast as a gazelle, Ax ran to help Rachel. The nearest guard turned to take a shot. Ax's tail flashed, and the Controller no longer had a way to pull a trigger.

Just beneath me, the other Controller from the Jeep kicked Farrand, who was struggling to get up. That was too much for me. I wheeled in the air and went back for a second run.

<Cassie!> Tobias cried a warning.

The front door of the building flew open and they began spilling out – a half dozen human-Controllers, each armed. And worse, far worse, were four big hork-bajir. But it was too late to back off. I was already diving. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

I heard the first two bullets go whizzing past me.

I felt the third bullet hit my wing. It went straight through my right wing, and I tumbled from the air, suddenly as ungainly as a chicken.

I fell. Helpless, I fell.

WHUMP!

I slammed hard into the ground.

Dizzy and confused, I thought I saw Jake leap toward a hork-bajir warrior. But I couldn't be sure. I was fading. Fading . . .

My world grew small and dark. I could no longer see anything far away. I could focus only on the ground right before me. An ant was marching by, carrying a dead bug. Maybe I was just imagining things, as I sank into unconsciousness. Maybe my brain was making up things that weren't there. But I could almost have sworn that the ant was carrying the dead, dried-out husk of the termite queen.

And then everything went black.


	19. Chapter 19

My life was a mess.

I was failing biology. But I didn't have time to fail biology, I had to save the forest, or the termites would die. How would the skunk kits survive if the termites died? It was a good thing I had my biology study group. With them, I wouldn't fail, and my alien father wouldn't have to kill the skunks. He'd be so upset that the study group wasn't helping my grades.

Wait, no. That wasn't quite right.

My mind started to clear.

I was in a dark box. No completely dark, though. There was enough light to see by, coming in through tiny holes in the top. Air holes. I could see the commissioner, Farrand, unconscious on the floor beside me.

He looked old. He was mostly bald and had hair growing out of his ears. There was blood trickling from a shallow cut on his forehead.

"Turn on the perimeter defenses!" Visser Three yelled. "You! And you! Keep your eyes on that box," Visser Three snapped. "If anything – anything, no matter how small – tries to get out of there, destroy it! There's an andalite bandit in that box, and there had better be an andalite bandit in that box when this is over. Or I'll destroy you both!"

Andalite bandit. That was me. I was pretty sure I could get out of the box as a termite, or even an ant. But those options were probably more dangerous than staying as I was, and I wouldn't be able to get away from the site within two hours in such a tiny form anyway. Of course, if I didn't get out of the box, I was going to end up trapped as a wounded bird. I couldn't let him see that I was human. It would compromise the others. I needed to demorph while the box was closed, then morph into something better able to defend myself. I had to at least try to put up a fight.

And I would have to demorph soon. My wing felt like it was on fire. The pain was terrible.

"Visser! The andalite bandits have turned the heavy equipment toward us!" someone yelled.

"Then turn on the force field!"

"But ... but Visser... our own people will be trapped outside of the force field."

The Visser's voice suddenly became very quiet. A very dangerous kind of quiet. "Did I just hear you question my order?"

"No! No, Visser! I'm turning on the force field!"

Farrand moaned. He moved his head a little, but then became quiet again. _Okay, Cassie, think. Think._

Obviously, my friends were still fighting. They must be winning, or the Visser would not turn on the force field.

They had seized control of some of the machines and turned them against this building. As soon as the force field went up, the heavy equipment would be useless.

And time was on the side of the yeerks. Visser Three would have called in more help. The Bug fighters full of fresh hork-bajir could be landing any minute. When that happened, all would be lost.

We were done for.

_No! Think, Cassie!_

What resources did we have?

Me. I was, presumably, inside the force field.

Commissioner Farrand was, presumably, not yet a Controller. But until we got him out of there safely, he was more of a liability. So, just me then. What was the yeerks' weakness? What did they have that I could take away?

Farrand moaned again.

Well, that should work.

I took a deep breath. I began to morph quickly out of the pain-wracked osprey body, back to my own human form. It was cramped in the box, with two humans in there. I was hunched over Farrand when his eyes fluttered open. I was already beginning my next morph. What the man saw was the face of a girl. But a face that was sprouting luxuriant black-and-white fur.

His eyes closed again. He would think it was all a dream. Hopefully.

"Hah!" I heard Visser Three crow. "The force field has stopped them!"

"Visser! The first Bug fighters will land here in fifteen minutes."

<Got them!> Visser Three said. <This time, I've got them!>

He thought he'd won; he hadn't realised yet that he'd handed me the trump card. (Could you hand someone trump cards? I don't play cards.) He hadn’t realised, yet, that I had everything I needed to win. But I still had a very difficult task ahead. I had to tell him.

I had to communicate to Visser Three without giving him, or Alloran, any hint that I wasn't an andalite. If I'd had Ax on hand, I would've used him as a spokesperson; Visser Three wondering why only a single andalite cadet ever spoke to him was better than him finding out why. But I didn't have Ax. I just had me, and my few experiences of andalite communication.

I gathered my thoughts. Monotone. Say as little as possible. Concepts over words. I looked at Farrand lying peacefully beneath me and imagined powerful wolf jaws closing around his neck.

<Visser,> I said. <I'll kill the human.>

The Visser instantly understood.

<Everyone in this room! Weapons on the box! Be prepared on my command to shoot the andalite without hitting the human! It may be in any sort of wild, deadly animal morph! Do not let it escape.>

I got into position. The human me was scared. But the skunk me was perfectly calm. The skunk knew it had the ultimate weapon.

The door of the box flew open.

We were in a small room, full of computers and with a single open door. Visser Three stood there in his andalite body, with his deadly tail cocked and ready to strike. Beside him, on either side, stood half a dozen armed human-Controllers. And in between the humans, towering above them, five huge hork-bajir warriors.

The Controllers levelled their weapons.

All this awesome deadly destructive power stared down at me.

Visser Three aimed his andalite stalk eyes at me. His main eyes were already staring in amusement.

<This is the best you could do, andalite scum?> He laughed. <Such a terrifying beast you've morphed!> He laughed again.

He laughed at the chubby, cat-sized black- and-white animal in the box. Laughed at the way I stood with my back to him, tail raised, looking over my shoulder.

A skunk can fire its scent with amazing accuracy up to about fourteen feet.

The Visser was only six feet away.

<Kill it,> Visser Three ordered coldly.

But I fired first.


	20. Chapter 20

A skunk can fire its scent in five to seven shots.

I fired once and hit the Visser in the face.

I fired again and hit the nearest hork-bajir on the left. Again and hit two human-Controllers. Again and again, all within about three seconds.

<Aaaarggghh!>

"Oheaguheaguheaohhhhh.ohhhh!"

"Heruntgahal! Stink! Arrrr!"

The Visser staggered back, blinded and reeling from the mighty stench. The human- Controllers covered their mouths with their hands. Some even dropped their weapons.

The hork-bajir I was worried about. I didn't know if hork-bajir even had a sense of smell.

Turns out they do.

Turns out they have an excellent sense of smell. Too bad.

The hork-bajir were the first to panic. One fired his Dracon beam wildly.

<Don't shoot, you fools!> Visser Three screamed. <You'll hit the human! Or me!>

Actually, what they had hit was the floor. A big, smoldering hole appeared in the wood.

"Reeking fernallgahall" one hork-bajir kept bellowing in the odd mix of English and their own tongue. Then the hork-bajir lost it completely. They turned and ran for the door. Personally, I didn't see what they were so excited about. It didn't smell bad to me.

They ran. The human-Controllers, the hork-bajir, and Visser Three. They ran from the horror of my skunk smell. I waddled as far as the doorway.

It was an amazing scene. The force field was still on. Three massive tree-cutters, diesel engines roaring and billowing smoke, were straining against the force field like mad dogs on a leash. Inside the force field, the totally demoralized yeerk forces. Outside the force field, a bizarre zoo -- a tiger, a grizzly bear, a gorilla. And something no human zoo had ever held -- an andalite. Jake, Rachel, Marco, and Ax. Around the clearing, a handful of human- Controllers and hork-bajir warriors sat nursing wounds. Some were just lying in the dirt.

It was a weird and tense scene. If the force field came down, the tractors and tree-cutters would hit the building within seconds.

On the other hand, even though they were reeking of skunk smell, and staggering and half-blind, the forces inside the field were stronger than Jake, Rachel, Marco, and Ax.

Of course, if the tree-cutters hit the building, they would probably kill Farrand. The yeerks didn't want that. Neither did we, but Visser Three didn't know that.

<What happened?> Jake asked me in private thought-speak.

<I sprayed them,> I said. <They didn't like it.>

I'm pretty sure tigers can't normally smile. But I could have sworn Jake did. He must have privately told Ax what happened. Ax was the only one we could trust to speak to Visser Three.

<Visser,> Ax said. <It seems to me that we have a standoff.>

<Don't try to bargain with me, fool,> Visser Three sneered. <I have forces on the way. >

Ax nodded, a gesture I’m pretty sure he picked up off us. <I wonder how your Blade ship will smell after you spread your newly acquired stench through it?>

<The smell... it will go away,> the Visser said.

"Visser, my human host has a memory of -" one of the human-Controllers began to say.

The Visser's tail blade snapped through the air. It pressed against the human-Controller's throat. A twitch would send the Controller's head flying.

<Do not interrupt me,> the Visser said calmly. <You were saying?> he asked Ax.

<The smell would go away in about seven Earth days... if you were in the open air,> Ax said calmly. <In a spacecraft? Airtight, closed up, cramped? You'll never lose the smell. Ever. However, thanks to andalite chemical technology there is a way to remove the stench. Let the human Farrand go free. He's unconscious and hasn't seen what you are. Let him go, we'll give you the secret of neutralizing the stench, and we all walk away.>

<I'll dispose of you myself!> the Visser shrieked. <Andalite filth!>

<Visser, we both know how impossible it is to remove a smell once it gets into a spacecraft. You would need a full refitting at a major space dock. Your Blade ship would be intolerable.>

Visser Three just stood there. Just stood there and stared. His stalk eyes drooped a little. <Get the human,> he muttered to his hork-bajir.

"Visser..." one hork-bajir moaned, clearly reluctant to go back where the smell was even stronger.

<This has not been a good day for me,> Visser Three said. <Would you really like to feel as bad as I do?>

The two hork-bajir went back inside and very quickly reappeared, dragging Farrand. They dropped him in the dirt.

<Have one of your men drive him to the nearest human hospital. When he is safe, we will tell you the secret. And no tricks. We'll be watching.> Ax rolled his stalk eyes skyward.

Visser Three followed the direction of his gaze, and saw, high in the sky, a bird of prey with a rust-red tail.

<You do realize that one day I will have you all,> Visser Three said. <With all your clever tricks, I will still find you.>

<No, I do not think so,> Ax said. <We are sure to smell you coming.>


	21. Chapter 21

The yeerks drove Farrand to the hospital. Once we knew he was safe, Ax told Visser Three how tomato juice would help get rid of the skunk smell. Marco wanted to give him false information, but after I pointed out that we'd probably need to bargain for our lives again in the future and we'd only be able to do that by setting a trustworthy precedent, he was outvoted.

The Visser was still screaming when we disappeared into the woods.

The next day, Jake, Marco, Rachel, Ax, and I were able to bring the skunk mother back to her den. She waddled inside, and a few minutes later, waddled back out followed by Joey, Johnnie, Marky, and C.J.

They ignored the four humans and the andalite completely. After all, mother skunk was back with her kits. And mother skunk wasn't afraid of anything.

"They grow up so fast," Rachel said, as they shuffled and snuffled and waddled past us in single file.

"I guess the real mother skunk will give them different names," Marco said. He was joking. I think.

"Well, anyway, the forest is safe for baby skunks now," Jake said.

Jake had morphed a housefly to spy on Farrand in the hospital. The commissioner was fine. The first thing he did when he regained full consciousness was make a phone call to say that he was voting against logging in the forest. In fact, according to Jake, Farrand swore he'd never, ever even listen to another word from Dapsen Lumber. And there was a good chance he'd press charges.

It also seemed, according to Farrand, that even the animals of the forest had risen up against the loggers. He claimed that he himself had been visited by the spirit of a giant skunk with the eyes of a human girl.

"Have a good life, little skunks," Marco said to the skunk family. “Tiny, furry little masters of the forest.”

Everyone was smiling and looking pretty pleased with themselves. But I was still worried.

As we walked toward home back through the forest, Jake hung back with me, letting the others move ahead.

"You don't seem all that happy," Jake said. "You miss being a skunk mommy?"

"No. I mean, yes, a little. But that's not it."

"So? So what's bothering you?"

“What Marco said when this whole thing started. What's to stop the yeerks from just burning down parts of the forest? What's to stop them from starting up an entirely different logging company and doing this again? Visser Three just needs a new human morph and even Farrand wouldn't know there was any connection.”

“I think Farrand is going to be particularly protective of the forest from now on.”

“Yeah, but he's just one guy.”

Jake didn’t seem to have a reply to that. We walked for a while in silence.

“So,” Jake eventually said, “your father...”

“Not now,” I said. “Can we start surveillance tomorrow, maybe? Just... not now.” We would have to confirm that my father was indeed a Controller. And that meant that we'd need the help of the other Animorphs. Which meant that I'd need to tell them of my suspicions. I wasn't looking forward to that.

“Ok, Cassie. If that's what you want.”

“I know this whole thing is inconvenient,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not inconvenient. It’s necessary – if he’s a Controller, we should know about it. Good on you for noticing.”

I swallowed. “It’s just… we’ve always been so close, and he’s my dad…”

“I know.” Jake smiled a smile with no happiness in it, and I knew he was thinking about Tom. “Believe me, I know.”


	22. Chapter 22

I started watching him that night anyway.

Our location made it easy. Our farm isn't exactly in the middle of suburbia. If my dad was going to a yeerk pool every three days, he wasn't walking there. And I doubted very much he'd take the bus, not when he had a truck and the easy excuse of an animal rescue call if anyone asked questions.

So I didn't need to do any morphing or use any complicated plans to watch him overnight. I just needed to wake up every few hours and check to see if the truck was still there. Of course, that was assuming I could sleep at all. I went to bed, closed my eyes... and quickly gave up.

Normally, I'd go out to the barn or the paddock or something, and practice morphing. But I wanted to stay within hearing distance of my father, in case he left. So instead I snuck out to the kitchen, made myself a hot cocoa as quietly as possible, then headed towards my parents' room. I sat with my back against their wall, and sipped.

“I took your advice,” my father was saying. “With Cassie.”

“How did it go?” my mother asked.

“Better. Like old times. I didn't try to push her on stuff she doesn't want to talk about, and she's her old happy, chatty self.”

“Well, that's good then.”

“But what's she hiding from us? Why is she suddenly so tired and moody and secretive – ”

“She's a teenager, Walter. Teenagers are like that.”

“But she's our Cassie!”

“She's our _teen_ Cassie. I'm sure she's probably just dating that Jake boy or something.”

“Why would she hide that? She knows we like – wait, you don't think they're...?!”

“No, I don't. But it's normal for her to want secrets. To pull away.”

“I don't want her to pull away.”

“We're not losing her, Walter. She's just growing up. All we can do is be there for her, when she wants to talk, and not grasp too hard when she doesn't.”

I worked hard to keep silent as tears dripped into my cocoa. I didn't want them to know that I was there. So I tried to take silent, deep breaths instead of choked sobs as relief washed through me.

They weren't Controllers.

Well, maybe they were, but I had no special reason to think that they were. It wasn't that Dad had stopped caring what I did. He was just giving me space. And if they were Controllers, would they bother having that conversation? Probably not. And here I was, lying to them about the Animorphs and suspecting them of being aliens because they loved me and failing them with terrible biology grades that I couldn't explain because my study group was actually...

Suddenly, my confused thoughts crystallised into a single, perfect plan.

I knew what I had to do.

I had to tell them that the Animorphs weren't just a study group.


	23. Chapter 23

I told the others what I was going to do. It was only fair that they knew. The Animorphs was their secret, too.

They asked if I wanted company. Backup. I politely declined. It was something that I needed to do myself.

I spent a day or so putting together exactly what I was going to say, and how. Writing a little informal speech. Building in defenses and explanations for the parts I knew they would object to. Getting ready.

Then I made three cups of tea, settled down on our picnic table out the back with them, and uttered the phrase, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it, sweetie?” Mom asked.

“My friends and I. My... my study group. We've been... well, there's more to it than that.”

My parents exchanged a glance, then fixed their eyes back on me.

“We're an environmental activist group.”

They both stiffened. Mom works at a zoo, and she and Dad both used to be scientists. They'd both had to worry about the bad kind of activists. The kind who break things, and blow things up, and release test animals to die in the wild.

“There's been this company, right? The Dapsen logging company. They wanted to start logging in the national forest.”

“Cassie,” my father said, panic in his voice, “what did you do?”

“Nothing. We did nothing.” I sipped my tea. “We wanted to. But they were stopped by... by the system. They were refused permission.” I looked up and met their eyes, first my father's, then my mother's. “We planned stuff. We wanted to help. But we're thinking, there are peaceful ways to help. I think it's more important to get people to care about the forest than to charge straight at anybody who threatens it. I think we can protect it better that way. Don't you?”

I could see the relief on both of their faces, although they tried to hide it. “I think you're right,” Mom said. “And you need our help?”

“I need your advice. I want to make people care what happens to the forest; not just government people, the public. So that companies won't want to hurt the forest, for fear of losing customers. I want to put people’s attention on the forest, so that anything done to hurt it will be _noticed_.”

“We can start a drive through the Rehabilitation Clinic,” Dad said.

“My boss at The Gardens had been wanting to do a themed event for some time,” Mom added. “I'll suggest the National Forest. Make it a 'wilderness in your backyard' sort of thing.”

I grinned. Sometimes, we couldn't avoid violence. We couldn't prevent collateral damage.

But sometimes, we could heal a little damage, do a little good. And every little bit counted.


End file.
